University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

Gift  of 
PAUL  PADGETTE 


SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


NEW  YORK. 


BY 

MATTHEW    HALE    SMITH, 

(BURLEIQH.) 


'  To  know  the  country  to  Its  farthest  veins, 
Find  out  its  heart;   there  all  Its  being  tends. 
The  mighty  mart  throbs  only  with  the  pulses 
Of  the  wide  land,  which  pours  its  streams  of  lifo 
And  strength  Into  its  bosom." 


HARTFORD: 
J.  B.  BURR    AND    COMPANY. 

SAN  FKANCISCO: 

R.   J.   TRUMBULL  &   COMPANY. 
1868. 


Entered,  according1  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1868,  by 

J.  B.  BURR  AND  COMPANY, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  United  States  for  the  District  of  Connecticut. 


Entered  also  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London,  England. 


ELECTROTVPED    AT   THE 

BOSTON    STEREOTYPE    FOUNDRY, 

No.  19  Spring  Lane. 


INTRODUCTION. 


MY  purpose  in  this  book  has  been  to  draw  the 
Great  Metropolis  with  its  lights  and  shades,  in  a  series 
of  graphic  papers:  to  sketch  New  York  as  I  have 
seen  it.  From  original  and  reliable  sources  I  have 
drawn  my  information  and  material  for  these  sketches. 
I  have  selected  representative  men,  and  have  at- 
tempted fairly  to  present  their  characteristics,  and 
usually  as  their  friends  would  wish  to  see  them.  Of 
things  and  places,  I  have  drawn  from  my  own  knowl- 
edge or  observation. 

M.  H.  S. 

(3) 


ILLUSTEATIONS. 


SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW, To  face  title-page. 

OLD  CITY  HALL,  WALL  STREET,      ....  "     "  page   43 

INSIDE    PLYMOUTH    CHURCH, "     "  "      87 

TOMBS,    SUNDAY    MORNING,    i  "     "  "     165 

STREET    SWEEPER, "     "  "209 

SUNDAY   BEER   GARDEN, "     "  "    217 

SEAMEN'S    BETHEL, "     "  "231 

INSIDE    TRINITY   CHURCH, «     "  "    277 

CENTRAL    PARK,   SATURDAY    AFTERNOON,            .           .  "     "  "     361 

INSIDE    HARRY    HILL'S    DANCE    HOUSE,            .  "     "  "     437 

HERALD   BUILDING,    BROADWAY,          ....""  "    515 

FIRE   ENGINE   ON    DUTY "     u  «    553 


CONTENTS. 


I. 

THE    CITY     01*  NEW    YORK. 

PAGE 

NEW   YORK  AS   A   PLACE    OF   RESIDENCE 26 

MORALITY   OF   THE    CITY. 28 

AN   EXAMPLE. 30 

THE    MINISTRY   OF   NEW  YORK.             .           .           .           .           .           .  32 

II. 
HIGH    LIFE    IN    NEW    YORK. 

MONEYOCRACY , 35 

A    MASKED  BALL.           .           .           .           .  ' 36 

WHO    HAS    MONEY. 37 

BROWN,   OF   GRACE   CHURCH 38 

YELLOW   KIDS.           . 40 

CLUBS .           .           .    .       .           .  40 

III. 

WALL    STREET. 

INAUGURATION  OF  WASHINGTON 42 

FINANCIAL  CENTRE.    .                      43 

CHAMBER   OF   THE   BOARD   OF   BROKERS.         .  .  •  .  .44 

AN    INSIDE    VIEW.          . 45 

CURBSTONE    BROKERS 47 

THE    SEPULCHRE    OF   FORTUNES.            .       .    .    '       .           .           .           .  48 

HOW   SHREWD   MEN   ARE   RUINED. 49 

IV. 

ALEXANDER    T.    STEWART. 

HIS  EARLY  LIFE.     .          .          »          .         /,,''...         ,  ,          .52 

THE   ACCIDENT   OF   SUCCESS.        ,          .          .          .         »          .  53 

(5) 


CONTENTS. 


HIS    STYLE   OF   BUSINESS '   .  55 

NOT   WELL   INFORMED 56 

IN   HIS   DOWN-TOWN    OFFICE. 56 

ACCESS   TO    MR.    STEWART   NOT   EASY. 57 

STEWART    AS    A    MASTER 58 

HIS    SHREWDNESS    AND   TACT 59 

HIS   HOME   ON   FIFTH   AVENUE .60 

V. 

A    SHODDY    PARTY. 

ITS   BRILLIANT   OPENING.  — ITS   FAILURE 63 

VI. 

MRS.    BURDELL-CUNNINGHAM. 

MRS.    CUNNINGHAM   AS   A   HOUSEKEEPER.       .  .  .  .  .65 

MRS.    CUNNINGHAM    AS    A  WIDOW 66 

HER    MARRIAGE »           ....  66 

HER   DAUGHTERS 68 

VII. 

SHARP  BUSINESS,  AND  ITS  VALUE. 

TWO    KINDS   OF   BUSINESS.        . 70 

TWO    MACADAMIZED   ROADS 71 

CASES    IN  POINT 72 

A   HARD    CREDITOR 73 

A    SHARP    MERCHANT 74 

TWO    SHARPERS 74 

MATRIMONIAL   SHARPNESS 76 

VIII. 

A    NIGHT    ON    THE  BATTERY. 

THE    BATTERY   AS   IT   WAS 78 

A   SUICIDE '     .  \       .  79 

A    DARK    STORY .79 

THE    TEMPTATION .80 

A   RESCUE 81 

FORCED   LOANS. .  82 

TRAFFIC    IN    FLESH    AND    BLOOD .83 

MADDENING   EXTORTIONS.    ,                                                                          .  84 


CONTENTS.  7 

IX. 

MR.  BEECHER  AND  PLYMOUTH  CHURCH. 

ORIGIN    OF   THE    CHURCH.         „ 86 

PLYMOUTH    CHURCH   ON    SUNDAY   MORNING 87 

TEN-MINUTE    RULE .88 

MR,    BEECHER    IN    THE   PULPIT 89 

HIS   SERMONS,             „ 91 

PECULIARITIES   OF   THE    CHURCH.         .                                   ...  93 

THE    INFLUENCE    OF    PLYMOUTH    CHURCH 94 

MR.    BEECHER   IN   THE   LECTURE-ROOM 95 

HIS    CONVERSION.     .  .  .  ...  .  .  .97 

PERSONAL ' 98 

AS    A   PASTOR ....  100 

X. 

HARPER    BROTHERS. 

RECORD  OF   FIFTY  YEARS "  .          .          .101 

JAMES'S    BOYHOOD. 102 

ORIGIN   OF   THE    HOUSE   OF   HARPERS 103 

ESTABLISHMENT   ON    FRANKLIN    SQUARE.             ....  105 

EMPLOYEES 105 

THE    CHARACTER   OF   THE    HOUSE.       .           .           .           .           .           .  100 

THE    COUNTING-ROOM.     ...                      107 

XI. 

STOCK    AND    OIL    PREACHERS. 

THE   NEW   YORK   PULPIT 109 

MINISTERIAL    SPECULATORS.         .           .  • 110 

A   SPECIMEN   IN    POINT 110 

XII. 
JOHN    JACOB    ASTOR. 

HIS   EARLY   LIFE. 113 

EMBARKS    FOR    AMERICA .  114 

HE    BEGINS    BUSINESS.     .           . 114 

EARLY    SUCCESS .           .    i      .           .  115 

ENGAGES    IN    COMMERCE t           .           .  116 

SITE   OF  THE    ASTOR   HOUSE.       ...                      ...  117 

HIS    STYLE   OF   BUSINESS. .118 

MAKES    FIVE   THOUSAND    DOLLARS.    ......  118 

A   BRIDAL    GIFT.                                                                         .           .           •           •  U9 


CONTENTS, 


HIS    LIBERALITY 120 

ASTOR    LIBRARY 121 

THE    MORLEY   LEASE.       . 121 

HOW   HIS    WEALTH   WAS    LEFT.  ......  123 

MR.    ASTOR    AT    EIGHTY-ONE 123 

HIS    RELIGION 125 

HIS    CLOSING  HOURS 126 

XIII. 

BLACK-MAILING    AS    AN    ART. 

METHODS    OF    RAISING    MONEY 128 

A  WIDOWER    BLACK-MAILED 129 

A    MINISTER    FALLS    AMONG    THIEVES 131 

BLACK-MAILERS    AT    A    WEDDING 134 

A    BRIDE    CALLED    ON 135 

ANOTHER    MODE.         ' 137 

BLACK-MAILER    FOILED. 137 

HOTEL    REGISTERS    AND*  BLACK-MAIL 139 

XIV. 
SUNDAY    IN  NEW    YORK. 

SABBATH    MORNING 140 

CHURCH-GOERS. 141 

PLEASURE-GOERS 142 

RELIGIOUS    PECULIARITIES 143 

FOREIGNERS    AND    SUNDAY 144 

XV. 

DETECTIVE  FORCE  OF  NEW  YORK. 

ITS   ORIGIN 14G 

QUALIFICATIONS    OF    A    DETECTIVE 147 

OLD    HAYS 148 

HOW    THE    DETECTIVES    DO    THEIR   WORK 149 

WHY    ROGUES    GO    CLEAR 150 

XVI. 

A    NIGHT    AMONG    THE    DETECTIVES. 

HEADQUARTERS. 151 

THE    ARREST    OF    A    PICKPOCKET .  152 

AN   OLD    MAN    IN   TROUBLE.  .  ...  154 


CONTENTS, 


A    MINISTER    IN    TROUBLE 155 

A    SEA    CAPTAIN    IN    DIFFICULTY 157 

BURGLAR   DETECTED   BY   A   BUTTON.       .  .  .  .  .  .158 

A    SHADOW    ON    THE    PATH 160 

PRIVATE    DETECTIVES 161 

THE    HUMANITY    OF    DETECTIVES 162 

THE    OTERO    MURDER •  .  .  .  .163 

XVII. 

THE  TOMBS  ON  SUNDAY  MOKNING. 

HOW    THE    PRISON    LOOKS 165 

INSIDE    VIEW 166 

THE    COURT-ROOM. 167 

THE    JUDGE    ON    THE    BENCH. 168 

DIVINE    SERVICE 171 

XVIII. 
POLICE    FORCE    OF    NEW    YORK. 

THE  OLD   SYSTEM 173 

ATTEMPT   AT    REFORM 174 

UNIFORM    REBELLION 175 

METROPOLITAN    SYSTEM 176 

GENERAL    SUPERINTENDENTS 177 

THE   POLICE   AT    THEIR    WORK ISO 

THE    HARBOR    PRECINCT 182 

HEADQUARTERS.            / 182 

THE   FULL    POLICE    FORCE .          ,184 

XIX. 

WILLIAM    B.    ASTOR. 

A   MAN    OF    THE    OLD    SCHOOL.        . 186 

HIS    OFFICE 187 

MR.    ASTOR    AS    A    CITIZEN .  .  .188 

MR.   ASTOR'S    SONS 189 

JOHN   JACOB    ASTOR 190 

XX. 

CORNELIUS    VANDERBILT. 

EARLY   LIFE. .  .  .193 

MR.    VANDERBILT    IN    HIS    OFFICE.  194 


10  CONTENTS. 

PERSONAL.            .           .           . 195 

AS    A    RAILROAD    MAN.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .196 

MR.    VANDERBILT    ON    THE    OCEAN 198 

GREAT    GIFT   TO    THE   NATION. 200 

XXI. 

THE    FIVE    POINTS. 

A    SCENE    AT   FIVE    POINTS 202 

'LADIES'  FIVE   POINTS   MISSION.  — ORIGIN   OF  THE   WORK.             .  204 

THE   FIELD    SELECTED.   .        ' 204 

THE   NATIONALITY    OF   THE    LOWLY 205 

THE    MISSION    BEGUN 206 

A   WALK    AROUND    FIVE    POINTS 208 

THE    MISSION    OF    THE    BEAUTIFUL 209 

HOW   THE   WORK   IS    SUPPORTED. 211 

SUCCESS    OF   THE    MISSION   WORK. 212 

A    REMARKABLE    MEETING 212 

XXII. 

THE    BOWERY. 

THE    BOWERY   ON    SUNDAY.     .  .  ...  .  .  .214 

LAGER    BEER    GARDENS 216 

A   WALK   UP   THE    AVENUE 217 

XXIII. 

PHILIP    PHILLIPS,    THE    CHRISTIAN    VOCALIST. 

HIS    EARLY    LIFE .220 

HE    REMOVES   WEST 220 

HIS   APPEARANCE,   AND    MANNER  AS   A   SINGER.  ....  222 

PRESTDENT    LINCOLN    AND    MR.    PHILLIPS.                                              ,  223 

XXIV. 

SAILORS    IN    NEW    YORK. 

JACK   ON   SHORE «          .  226 

HOMES    FOR   SEAMFJN.           .           ...           .           ...          .  227 

SAILOR    DANCE-HOUSES.  '.  .  .          *          .          >          .  .228 

LAND-SHARKS. "    .           .  230 

BETHELS.           .          V        •           •           •    '       •           *           •           •           *           •  231 

WATER    STREET   RAMBLE.  .  232 


CONTENTS.  11 

XXV. 

FULTON    STREET    PRAYER-MEETING. 
EARLY   DUTCH   CHURCH.  .  .  ....  .  .  .235 

FOUNDER   OF   THE    DAILY   PRAYER-MEETING 237 

FIRST    NOONDAY    MEETING 233 

THE   PERSONALE    OF   THE   MEETING 239 

AN    INSIDE   VIEW 240 

FLIES    IN    THE    OINTMENT. 241 

FINALE .  .  ...  .  .242 

XXVI. 

BUSINESS    REVERSES    IN    NEW    YORK. 

MIRAGE    OF   WEALTH.     .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .243 

RAILROAD    CONDUCTOR. .           .  245 

A    RAILROAD    KING.           .           .           . 245 

SARATOGA    BELLE 248 

ROCK    IN    THE    CHANNEL 249 

SUCCESS   A    COY   THING 252 

OLD    MERCHANTS 254 

XXVII. 

ADAMS    EXPRESS    COMPANY. 

ORIGIN    OF    THE    EXPRESS    BUSINESS. 257 

ORGANIZATION 258 

HEADQUARTERS 259 

THE    SUPERINTENDENT 2GO 

THE    STABLES. 261 

THE   LESSON.        , 263 

XXVIII. 
COLLEGE    HONORS. 

COMMON   BOON.        .          .          .     ' 264 

COVETED    HONORS 264 

THE    SCRAMBLE 265 

A   RACE 266 

,XXIX. 

« 

FERNANDO  WOOD. 

HIS    START 268 

HIS    PIOUS    ROLE,  269 


12  CONTENTS. 

THE  INAUGURAL .                      .  -270 

HE    WINS    OVER    THE    PUBLIC.     ...  272 

ASSUMES    HIS   REAL  CHARACTER .274 

PERSONAL. ...  275 

XXX. 

TRINITY    CHURCH    CORPORATION. 

THE   WEALTH   OF   TRINITY.    .  .  '                              .278 

AS    A    PARISH.      ...                                   •  2~9 

THE    YOUNG    RECTOR •                       .           ,     279 

TRINITY    SERVICES 281 

XXXI. 

CONSPIRACY    AGAINST    PRESIDENT    LINCOLN. 

THE    PRESIDENT   IN    THE    CITY .283 

THE    CONSPIRATORS 285 

THE    FEELING    IN    WASHINGTON 286 

PLOT    DISCOVERED 287 

VISIT   TO    MR.   LINCOLN 288 

XXXII. 

INCIDENTS    IN    CITY    EVANGELIZATION. 

NEW   YORK    CITY    MISSION.  — ORIGIN   OF   THE   WORK.   .  .290 

THRILLING    INCIDENTS. 291 

TEMPERANCE    IN  A    RUM    SALOON. 292 

RESCUE    OF    THE    DESTITUTE 293 

A    SOLDIER    IN    TROUBLE. 294 

A    YOUNG    MAN'S    STORY 294 

NOT   EASILY    DISCOURAGED 296 

A    MISSIONARY'S    DAILY   WORK.  ...  .  .  .  .  297 

A   FOOL   ANSWERED   ACCORDING   TO    HIS   FOLLY.  ,  .  .298 

XXXIII. 

POLICEMEN    ON    TRIAL. 

NEED   OF   DISCIPLINE 300 

MR.   ACTON   AS    A   JUDGE 301 

TRIALS    IN    THE    COURT-ROOM.         . -302 

HUMOR    AND   WIT 303 

TRYING   THE    COMPLAINANT ,        .  .  .     305 

A   PANEL-THIEF.  .  .  .  .      !    »'         306 


CONTENTS.  13 

XXXIV. 

GENERAL   CHARLES   STETSON  AND  THE  ASTOR  HOUSE. 

ORIGIN    OF   THE   ASTOR    HOUSE .309 

NEW    YORK   AROUND   THE    ASTOR 310 

GENERAL    STETSON    AND    THE    ASTOR 312 

THIRTY   YEARS    OF   HOTEL   LIFE.  • 314 

MR.    JONES,    THE    BAGGAGE-MASTER 315 

ROOM    NUMBER   ELEVEN   THURLOW  WEED'S    NEW  YORK   HOME.  317 

MR.    WEED'S    EARLY    CAREER 318 

SECRET   OF   HIS  POWER 319 

AN    INCIDENT.  .  .  .  .  ....  .  .  .320 

PERSONAL 320 

MR.   WEBSTER  AT   THE   ASTOR   HOUSE 322 

AN    INCIDENT.      .....          ^            ....  323 

WEBSTER'S    BIRTHDAY 324 

BALTIMORE   NOMINATION.              .......  326 

MR.   WEBSTER   AND    GENERAL   TAYLOR 328 

XXXV. 

LEONARD    W.    JEROME. 

DRIVING  HIS   FOUR-IN-HAND 331 

XXXVI. 

REV.    DR.    E.    H.    CHAPIN. 

IN   NEW   YORK.         .  . .332 

AS    A    PREACHER 333 

IN    THE    PULPIT. 334 

PERSONAL \           .  335 

XXXVII. 

REV.    0.    B.    FROTHINGHAM. 

THE    MANTLE   OF  THEODORE   PARKER 336 

XXXVIII. 

PRACTICAL    JOKES. 

GREEK    SLAVE 338 

SECTARIAN   DOG. 339 

A   NOCTURNAL   MISTAKE 340 

HOW  TO    COLLECT   A    CROWD 341 

SERMON   TO   OLD   VETERANS.                                '•"/.  S£          •          •          •  341 


14  CONTENTS. 

HUMOR   IN   THE    PULPIT 342 

WOOL    BY    THE    FOOT .  .  .  .  343 

GHOST    IN    ASTOR    LIBRARY 344 

A   BAPTIST    MINISTER   IN   A   QUANDARY.         .  .  .  .  .345 

BAD    SPECULATION.      . 345 

RIVAL    CLAIMS    TO   AUTHORSHIP 346 

A    DIVINE   ON    HIS    MUSCLE 346 

BARNUM    AND    THE    RECTOR 347 

FUN   AND   PIETY 348 

XXXIX. 

NEW    YEAR'S    DAY    IN    NEW    YORK. 

ITS   ANTIQUITY. 350 

THE    PREPARATION.    . 351 

THE    TABLE 351 

DRESS    OF    THE    LADIES 352 

THE    RECEPTION 353 

NEW  YEAR'S   NIGHT -      .  .  .  .  354 

XL. 
CENTRAL    PARK. 

ITS    ORIGIN 356 

THE    COMMISSION.         . '  357 

ITS    INFLUENCE    ON   THE    PEOPLE 358 

THE    ZOOLOGICAL    GARDEN.          •          .•  •  •  -  361 

THE    PRIDE   OF   NEW    YORK 361 

XL  I. 

SCHOOL  OF  INSTRUCTION  FOR  METROPOLITAN  POLICE. 

UNDER   CHARGE   OF    MR.   LEONARD.        r;      .  .  .  ...  363 

XLII. 
LIFE    AMONG    THE    LOWLY. 

INTERESTING   FACTS.  — HOMES   OF   THE   LOWLY.     ,  .  .  .365 

A    NIGHT    TRAMP.         .  .       v->.       •,    .  .  .  .        •  .  .  366 

BAREFOOTED    BEGGAR.    .  .  .       ,    .  .  .          Y          .  .  366 

A    STREET    BOY.. i  .  .  367 

A    SAD    SCENE.         ...  .  •  •  •         V         i  .  368 

GENTEEL    SUFFERING.  .  .      ,>..       T.^-        »r --,---„  .  369 


CONTENTS.  15 

XLIII. 

SOCIAL    EVIL    IN    NEW    YORK. 

EXTENT   OF   PUBLIC   PROSTITUTION.         ......     371 

MR.    KENNEDY'S    STATEMENT 372 

HOUSES    OF    THE   FIRST   CLASS.        .  .  .  .  .  .  .375 

THE    KEEPER 377 

HOW  THEY   ARE    FILLED ,  .     378 

AGENTS    AND   RUNNERS 370 

THRILLING    CASES. 380 

STARTLING    FACTS.       . .  381 

VICTIMS    FROM   NEW   ENGLAND.      .  .  .  .  .  .  .384 

A  NIGHT   ENCOUNTER 385 

A   MAYOR'S   EXPERIENCE 386 

HOPELESS    CLASSES ..387 

XLIV. 
PANEL-THIEVING. 

AS    A  SYSTEM.  .  . 390 

THE   PANEL-HOUSE 391 

ROBBERY 392 

XLV. 

GAMBLING-HOUSES    OF    THE    PIKST    CLASS. 

LOCATION 394 

ARRANGEMENT    AND   TABLE 395 

GAMBLING-ROOM 396 

HOW    THE  GAME    GOES    ON §.  .  396 

THE    COMPANY 397 

JOHN    MORRISSEY'S   HOUSE 398 

HIS    START •  .  .  .399 

FINDS    EMPLOYMENT.  .  . 399 

BEGINS    AS   A    GAMBLER. 401 

AT    SARATOGA 401 

GAMBLING   AS   A    TRADE .  .  .402 

ONE    MAKES  A   FORTUNE. 403 

XLVI. 
LOW    CLASS    GAMBLING-HOUSES. 

THE    SKIN   GAME.    .  ;  .          ;  .     -    .. :         .  ~.        .  .  .405 

HOW  VICTIMS   ARE   SECURED.  405 


16  CONTENTS. 

XLVII. 
DAY    GAMBLING-HOUSES. 

THEIR   ORIGIN.         . 408 

HOW   THE    ROOMS    ARE    FITTED   UP 409 

AN    INSIDE    VIEW.  . 410 

XLVIII. 
TELEGRAPH    HEADQUARTERS,    ETC. 

PROFESSOR   MORSE.  .......  .412 

INVENTION    OF   THE   TELEGRAPH 413 

MEN    SLOW   TO    BELIEVE 413 

GOVERNMENT   AID. 415 

TELEGRAPH    COMPANIES 416 

AMERICAN    TELEGRAPH    COMPANY    (WESTERN    UNION).       .           .  417 

NEW    MODE    OF    WRITING 418 

SYSTEM    OF    BUSINESS 418 

A    DOMESTIC    CONVENIENCE 419 

EMPLOYMENT   FOR   WOMEN 420 

XLIX. 

GEORGE    LAW. 
HIS    FINANCIAL    START 421 

L. 

BROWN    AND    BROTHERS. 
THE    FOUNDER   OF   THE  HOUSE 423 

LI. 

STREET-WALKERS. 

WHO    THEY   ARE .  .     424 

BED-HOUSES '.           .  V      •           •  425 

VISITORS. .''.'"    .""       '.  .     426 

WOMEN    ON    THE    PAVE.      .           .           .           %   '       .           .           ...  427 

AN    INCIDENT.            .           .                       .           ...           .           .  .     428 

HOW   STREET-WALKERS   APPEAR .  429 

LII. 

HOUSES    OF    ASSIGNATION. 
PRIVATE    AND   PUBLIC.  .  .431 


CONTENTS.  17 

LIU. 
HARRY    HILL'S    DANCE-HOUSE. 

WHO    IS    HARRY    HILL? 435 

THE    DANCE-HALL 436 

INSIDE    VIEW 437 

THE    COMPANY 438 

A  DARK  PAGE    TO    READ 439 

THE    PASTIMES 440 

THE    MANAGER 441 

WRECKS    OF    CHARACTER 441 

A    STARTLING    CASE 443 

LIV. 
THE    FRIENDS    IN    NEW    YORK. 

THE    SECT 446 

A    QUAKER    MEETING-HOUSE .447 

SABBATH    SERVICE 448 

THE    PREACHING 449 

YEARLY    MEETING. 450 

LV. 
THE   CHILDREN    OF    ABRAHAM. 

THE    JEWS    IN    NEW   YORK 452 

JEWS    OF    THE    LOWER    CLASS 453 

THE    SYNAGOGUES 454 

INNOVATIONS 455 

THE    FEAST    OF    THE    PASSOVER 457 

JEWISH    SUNDAY    SCHOOLS 457 

LYI. 

THE    GREAT    BEAR    OF    WALL    STREET. 

JACOB   LITTLE.  — HIS    CAUTION,    SELF-RELIANCE,    AND   INTEGRITY.  459 

LVII. 

METHODISM    IN    NEW    YORK. 

ITS    ORIGIN .           .  403 

HORSE    AND    CART    LANE 404 

THE   LIBERALITY  OF  THE    EARLY  CHRISTIANS   IN   NEW  YORK.      .  405 

THE    GROWTH   OF    THE    CHURCH 467 

THE    DREW    THEOLOGICAL    SEMINARY.  ,                       ....  468 


18  CONTENTS. 

LVIII. 

MADAME    DEMOREST. 
HER    DRESS-MAKING   AND    MILLINEUY    ESTABLISHMENTS.      .  .     409 

• 

LIX. 
GENERAL    GRANT    IN    NEW    YORK. 

HIS    ARRIVAL.            . 472 

AN    ADJUTANT    GENERAL'S  'STORY       ...           .           .           .  473 

HOW    THE    GENERAL    GOT    INTO    THE    ARMY.  .  .  .  .474 

GENERAL    SCOTT    ON    GENERAL    GRANT.      .....  476 

MR.    LINCOLN    RECALLS    HIM. 477 

A    FATHER'S    OPINION    OF    HIS    SON 479 

THE    OVATION 479 

MRS.    GRANT 481 

GENERAL   GRANT   IN   PRIVATE   LIFE 481 

LX. 

ORIGIN   OF  THE   NEW  YORK  RELIGIOUS  PRESS. 

DR.    MORSE    AND    HIS    SONS.    .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .486 

BOSTON    RECORDER 487 

THE    OLDEST    RELIGIOUS    NEWSPAPER. 488 

THE   FOUNDING   OF   THE    OBSERVER.  .  .  .  .  .  488 

LXI. 

THE  PECULIARITIES   OF  NEW  YORK  CHURCHES. 

CLERICAL    REPUTE. 490 

FLUCTUATION    OF    CHURCHES 492 

GRACE    CHURCH. 494 

WAYSIDE    WORSHIP 495 

TREATMENT    OF   STRANGERS 496 

LXII. 

MINISTERS'    CHILDREN. 
THEY   ARE    PATRONIZED  AND  PITIED 498 

LXIII. 

REV.   DR.   ADAMS,   OF  THE  PRESBYTERIAN  CHURCH. 

HIS    EARLY    CAREER 502 

MINISTRY   IN   NEW   YORK.  503 


CONTENTS.  19 

MADISON    AVENUE    CHURCH.  . 504 

SECRET   OF   SUCCESS 505 

HIS    STYLE  OF    PREACHING 507 

HIS    POSITION .           .  508 

DR.    ADAMS    AS    AN    AUTHOR. 508 

A    FASHIONABLE    UP-TOWN    CHURCH.  .  .  .  .  .509 

LXIV. 

JAMES   GORDON  BENNETT  AND   THE   N.   Y.   HERALD. 

MR.    BENNETT'S    EARLY    LIFE 511 

EMBARKS    FOR    AMERICA .           .           .       '  512 

HIS    NEW    YORK    CAREER 513 

CAREER   AS   A  JOURNALIST 513 

NEW    YORK    HERALD 514 

THE    NEW    HERALD    BUILDING 515 

INSIDE    VIEW. 516 

THE    COUNCIL.      .           . 517 

MR.    BENNETT    AT    HOME 518 

HIS    FAMILY 520 

MR.    BENNETT    AND    THE    FRENCH    MISSION.  .           .           .           .           .  *522 

PERSONAL    APPEARANCE, 523 

LXV. 
DANIEL    DREW. 

EARLY    LIFE 526 

MR.    DREW   IN    NEW   YORK 527 

MR.    DREW   ON    THE    HUDSON 527 

MR.    DREW    AND    THE    HUDSON    RIVER    RAILROAD.     .           .           .  S-jg 

MR.    DREW   AT    THE    STOCK    BOARD .529 

PERSONAL    AND    DOMESTIC 529 

LXVI. 

THE   NEW  YORK  BAR  — ITS  REPRESENTATIVE    MEN. 

GENERAL   VIEW. 531 

EMINENT    LAWYERS.  .                       534 

CHARLES    O'CONOR 534 

WILLIAM    M.    EVARTS 536 

JAMES    T.    BRADY 538 

DAVID    DUDLEY    FIELD 530 

A.    OAKEY    HALL.    . .542 

WILLIAM    J.   A.    FULLER.  54* 


20  CONTENTS. 

LXVII. 
THE    METROPOLITAN    FIRE    DEPARTMENT. 

ITS    ORIGIN. 548 

THE    NEW   FORCE.         .           .           . 549 

THE    HORSES. 550 

THE    ENGINE    HOUSES 551 

AT    A    FIRE 553 

THE    GOVERNMENT   OF    THE    DEPARTMENT 553 

LXVIII. 
FIRST    DIVISION    NATIONAL    GUARD. 

FORMATION    OF    THE    DIVISION 556 

THE    MILITARY    AS    A    POLICE    FORCE 557 

THE    MILITARY   AND    RIOTS 558 

THE    SEVENTH    REGIMENT    AND    THE    ASTOR    PLACE    RIOT.  '      .  560 

MAYOR  WOOD'S    RIOT 561 

AN    EPISODE 562 

THE    FINALE.             .    • 564 

FIRST    DIVISION    AND    THE    WAR 505 

PRESIDENDIAL    RECEPTION 566 

THE    PARADES 566 

LXIX. 

HON.    JOHN    KETTELAS    HACKETT. 

RECORDER'S    COURT 568 

RECORDER    HACKETT 569 

THE    RECORDER    ON    THE  BENCH 570 

SENTENCING    CRIMINALS.     .           . 570 

COURT  OF    GENERAL    SESSIONS 572 

LXX. 

REV.  DR.   SAMUEL  OSGOOD. 

UNITARIANISM   IN   NEW  YORK 575 

DR.    OSGOOD   AS    A    THEOLOGIAN 576 

DR.    OSGOOD    IN  THE    PULPIT .578 

THE   NEW  CHURCH 579 

LXXI. 

BISHOP    ONDERDONK. 

HIS   INNOVATIONS.                                                      .                     ...  581 


CONTENTS.  2} 

LXXII. 

AARON    BURR    AND    HIS    DUEL. 
HIS    LIKENESS    IN    THE    STATE    LIBRARY   AT  ALBANY.  .  .  .586 

LXXIII. 

REV.  DR.  JOHN   DOWLING,  OF   THE   BAPTIST   CHURCH. 

FIRST    BAPTIST    CHURCH 589 

REV.    DR.    DOWLING 590 

HIS    EARLY    LIFE.— IN    NEW    YORK.  — PERSONAL 591 

LXXIV. 
PHINEAS    TAYLOR    BARNUM. 

HIS    EARLY    CAREER 503 

MR.    BARNUM    AS    A    PUBLIC    CATERER 594 

THE    THEORY    OF    SUCCESS 596 

REVERSES.  — PERSONAL 597 

FAILURE    AND    SUCCESS 598 

LXXV. 

ROBERT   BONNER  AND   THE   NEW  YORK  LEDGER. 

HIS    EARLY    CAREER.  — REMOVAL     TO    NEW    YORK.  .  .  .605 

AN    UPWARD    STEP 607 

OWNS    THE    LEDGER .608 

HIS    SYSTEM   OF  ADVERTISING 609 

STRATEGY 610 

THE    VALUE    OF   A   NAME 612 

BANCROFT  AND  MR.  EVERETT.  — MR.  BEECHER  AND  THE  LEDGER.     614 

BONNER'S    HORSES 615 

HIS    STABLES 617 

PERSONAL. 619 

LXXVI. 

A.  V.  STOUT,  PRESIDENT  OF  SHOE  AND  LEATHER  BANK. 

HIS    EARLY    LIFE 622 

HIS    TACT 623 

CONNECTION   WITH    THE   PUBLIC    SCHOOL.  — A    CRASH.  .  .  .624 

BUSINESS    PRINCIPLE.  .  . 625 

BECOMES    A    MERCHANT.  — HIS    CONNECTION   WITH    THE    BANK.     .     628 
PERSONAL.  629 


22  CONTENTS. 

LXXVII. 
JOHN    ALLEN'S    DANCE-HOUSE. 

LOCATION. 631 

A    VISIT    TO    THE    DANCE-HOUSE.  — AN    INSIDE    VIEW.           .           .  632 

A    TALK   WITH    ALLEN.  — RELIGIOUS    SERVICES 633 

LXXVIII. 
NEW    YORK.  DAILY    PRESS. 

ITS    POWER.     . 635 

THE    NEW    YORK    TIMES 637 

THE    EVENING    TOST 640 

THE    NEW   YORK    WORLD 641 

LXXIX. 

NEW    YORK    INDEPENDENT. 

ITS    ORIGIN. 643 

BASIS    OF    THE    PAPER.         . 644 

THE    INDEPENDENT    AND    ITS    EDITORS. 645 

THE    HIGHER    LAW 646 

TRACT    SOCIETY    CONTROVERSY 647 

Mil.    BEECHER    AS    EDITOR. —  THEODORE    TILTON.         .           .           .  648 

DR.    LEA  VITT.  —  HENRY    C.    BO  WEN 650 

FINALE. 651 

FINANCIAL    SUCCESS. 652 

LXXX. 

HON.    HORACE    GREELEY. 
HIS   POWER    OVER   THE  -  PEOPLE.         .        '  .  .  .          .          .          654 

LXXXI. 

GENERAL    CHARLES    G.    HALPINE. 
MILES    O'REILLY.     . 659 

LXXXII. 

R.    L.    AND    A.    STUART. 
THE   OLD    MANUFACTORY   ON    CHAMBERS    STREET.     ...          662 


CONTENTS.  23 

LXXXIII. 

JAMES    LENOX. 
THE   UP-TOWN   MOVEMENT   COMMENCED   BY   HIM.  .  .          .664 

LXXXIV. 

AUGUST    BELMONT. 

AGENT    OF    THE    ROTHSCHILDS. 666 

LXXXV. 

EDWIN    D.    MORGAN. 
COMMENCED    TRADE    IN    A    SMALL    WAY 66S 

LXXXVI. 

THEATRES    IN    NEW    YORK. 
THE    BOWERY    BOYS    AND    PLUG    UGLIES.   .  .  .  .  669 

LXXXVII. 

NEW  YORK  YOUNG  MEN'S   CHRISTIAN  ASSOCIATION. 

ORIGIN 671 

CONTROVERSY    ON    SLAVERY 672 

WHO    ORIGINATED    FULTON    STREET    DAY    MEETING?      .  .  .672 

ASSOCIATION    AND    THE    WAR 673 

LARGE    WORK    OF    THE    ASSOCIATION.  — NEW    HEADQUARTERS.        .  674 

PURPOSE    OF    THE    ASSOCIATION 675 

OUTSIDE  WORK 676 

LXXXVIII. 

ADMIRAL    DAVID     G.    FARRAGUT. 

EARLY    LIFE.  — HEROIC    RESOLUTION.      .  ...  679 

HE    BECOMES    A    STUDENT.  —  VALUE    OF    ONE    BOOK.  ...  680 

THE    GREAT    LESSON    TAUGHT 682 

PERSONAL.  .  683 


DORLAN'S,    FULTON   MARKET. 
HIS    OYSTER    ESTABLISHMENT.  , 


24  CONTENTS. 

xc. 

ROMAN    CATHOLICS    IN    NEW    YORK. 

THE    CITY    UNDER    CATHOLIC    RULE 688 

INTRODUCTION    OF    CATHOLICISM    INTO    NEW    YORK.            .           .  690 

ITS   PRESENT    POSITION. 691 

ARCHBISHOP    MCCLOSKEY 692 

XCI. 
GIFT    SWINDLERS   AND   LOTTERY  ENTERPRISES. 

THEIR    EXTENT 694 

PLAN    OF    OPERATION 695 

THE    TICKET    SWINDLE 697 

MODES    OF    OPERATING 698 

PRIZE  TICKET.  — CIRCULAR 699 

MEDICAL    SWINDLE 700 

THE    LETTERS 701 

WHY    DO    NOT    THE    POLICE    BREAK    UP    THIS    SWINDLING?        .  702 

THE    PARTIES    WHO    CARRY    ON    THE    SWINDLE 703 

DOLLAR    STORES 704 

XCII. 

SUNSHINE    AND   SHADOW. 

THE    EXTREMES   IN   NEW   YORK   LIFE.   .                                 ...  706 


I. 

THE    CITY    OF    NEW    YORK. 

NEW   YORK    AS    A    PLACE     OF    RESIDENCE.  —  MORALITY   OF    THE    CITY.  —  ITS 
BENEFICENCE.  AN    EXAMPLE.  —  THE    MINISTRY    OF    NEW    YORK. 

NEW  YORK  is  the  commercial  metropolis  of  America. 
It  stands  on  an  island  defined  by  three  rivers,  —  the 
Hudson,  the  East  River,  and  Harlem, —  sixteen  miles 
from  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  The  city  lies  at  the  head 
of  the  Bay  of  New  York,  one  of  the  finest  in  the  world. 
Broadway,  the  principal  street,  runs  the  entire  length 
of  the  island,  and  is  paved,  policed  and  lighted  for  fif- 
teen miles,  from  the  Battery  to  the  Harlem  River.  The 
Dutch  called  the  island  Mauritius,  after  Prince  Maurice, 
who  governed  Holland.  The  Indians  called  it  Man- 
hattan. Later  the  Dutch  catted  it  Nieuw  Amsterdam. 
The  English  changed  it  to  its  present  name  in  honor 
of  the  Duke  of  York.  From  the  Battery  the  city 
stretches  away  north,  spreading  ovit  like  a  fan  till  it 
reaches  its  northern  boundary.  Its  average  breadth  is 
about  one  mile  and  a  half.  The  population  of  the  city 
is  over  nine  hundred  thousand.  It  costs  half  a  mil- 

'(25) 


26  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

lion  annually  to  light  the  city.  Two  thousand  police- 
men guard  the  city  at  the  annual  cost  of  over  a  million 
and  a  half  of  dollars.  Seven  hundred  thousand  dollars 
a  year  are  disbursed  by  the  authorities  in  public  charity. 
Three  hundred  religious  and  benevolent  societies  col- 
lect and  pay  out  annually  the  sum  of  over  two  and  a 
half  millions.  The  Catholics  number  among  their  wor- 
shippers five  hundred  thousand.  The  Protestant  faith 
numbers  among  its  worshippers  about  three  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand,  who  expend  one  million  a  year  in 
support  of  their  faith. 

NEW   YORK   AS  A   RESIDENCE. 

Some  twenty  years  ago  a  man  in  Vermont  pro- 
posed to  visit  New  York.  He  made  his  will,  and  had 
prayers  offered  in  the  church  that  he  might  be  kept 
from  peril  in  the  wicked  city  to  which  he  was  going. 
Those  who  live  at  a  distance,  and  know  the  city  only 
through  the  papers,  suppose  it  to  be  as  wicked  as  Sodom 
and  as  unsafe  as  Gomorrah  in  the  time  of  Lot.  As  a 
home  it  has  few  attractions  to  a  stranger.  Its  babel 
and  confusion  distract  and  almost  craze.  Its  solitude 
is  distressing.  In  the  midst  of  a  crowd  the  stranger  is 
alone.  He  might  live  or  die  without  any  one's  know- 
ing or  caring.  The  distinguished  man,  or  well-to-do 
merchant  from  the  country,  has  no  deference  paid  to 
him.  He  is  jostled  by  the  crowd,  trampled  down  by 
the  omnibus,  or  run  over  by  the  market  vans.  He 
stands  in  the  vestibule  of  a  fashionable  church  till  his 
legs  tire  and  his  lady  faints  from  indignation,  and 
when  he  has  a  seat,  it  probably  is  a  back  one.  A  short 
residence  in  New  York  changes  things  wonderfully. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  2T 

Order  and  harmony  seem  to  come  out  of  the  confusion. 
Families  find  themselves  as  well  protected  and  as  com- 
fortable as  in  a  smaller  town.  The  loneliness  and  soli- 
tude find  a  compensation  in  the  independence  which 
each  family  and  person  secures.  A  man  in  New  York 
can  live  as  he  pleases  —  dwell  in  a  palace  or  in  an 
attic,  dine  at  night  or  not  at  all,  keep  a  dozen  servants 
or  none,  get  up  early  or  late,  live  in  style  or  be  old 
fashioned.  No  one  will  meddle  with  or  trouble  him 
unless  he  undertakes  to  make  great  display.  On 
change,  in  business,  in  the  social  circle,  or  at  church, 
the  style  of  a  man's  living  and  doing  harms  him  not. 
There  is  a  warm,  Christian,  benevolent  heart  in  New 
York,  a  frank  and  generous  sociability,  when  one  can 
command  it,  that  is  delightful.  The  family  who  "  would 
not  live  in  New  York  if  you  would  give  them  the  best 
house  011  Fifth  Avenue,"  after  a  year's  residence  are 
seldom  willing  to  live  anywhere  else.  The  climate  is 
delightful.  It  is  not  savage  and  rasping.  It  is  not 
enervating,  like  Philadelphia  or  Baltimore.  East  winds 
do  not  trouble  the  feeble.  Clear,  bracing  winds  come 
daily  from  the  ocean,  bearing  health  on  their  wings. 
The  winter  is  short,  and  seldom  severe.  The  spring 
and  autumn  are  long  and  delicious.  The  weather  for 
eight  months  in  the  year  is  exhilarating,  and  gives  a 
charm  to  life.  Broadway  is  a  perpetual  panorama.  Its 
variety  never  tires.  The  windows  are  filled  with  the 
richest  and  most  elegant  goods.  Gold,  silver,  jewels, 
diamonds,  silks,  satins,  and  costly  fabrics  flash  imder 
the  plate  glass  for  miles.  The  pavement  is  the  great 
promenade  where  the  eminent  men  of  New  York  can 
be  seen  daily,  while  ladies  of  fame,  fashiqn,  and  ele- 


28  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

gance,  in  the  richest  and  most  fashionable  attire,  crowd 
and  jostle  each  other  up  and  down  this  great  thorough- 
fare. In  no  city  in  the  world  do  ladies  dress  so  ele- 
gantly and  with  so  much  expense,  for  the  street, 
as  in  New  York.  Dressed  in  their  gayest  and  most 
costly  attire,  their  broad  skirts  of  the  richest  fabrics, 
sweep  the  dirty  sidewalks,  while  the  abundance  of 
their  flashing  jewels  attracts  attention.  The  carriages 
of  the  wealthy  roll  up  and  down  this  favorite  thorough- 
fare, and  add  to  the  brilliancy  of  a  bright  day  in  New 
York.  Everything  that  is  manufactured,  or  that  grows 
in  any  part  of  the  world,  can  be  purchased  in  this  city. 
You  can  have  a  tropical  climate  if  you  can  pay  for  it, 
fruits  that  grow  in  the  equator,  and  products  from 
every  part  of  the  world.  A  New  Yorker  need  not  go 
abroad  for  amusement,  recreation,  or  health.  The 
eminent  men  who  visit  America  never  pass  by  New 
York.  Distinguished  artists  come  here  to  sing  and 
perform.  Orators,  musicians,  and  men  on  whom  na- 
tions like  to  look  come  to  the  very  doors  of  residents 
of  this  city. 

MORALITY   OF   THE   CITY. 

Sound  morality  and  business  integrity  have  a  market 
value  in  New  York.  The  city  was  founded  in  religion. 
The  colony  that  bought  the  island  of  the  Indians  was 
a  religious  colony.  The  early  settlers,  scattered  all  the 
way  from  the  Battery  to  West  Chester  County,  met  on 
the  Sabbath  for  worship.  «  The  Half  Moon  "  cast  her 
anchor  in  the  North  River,  and  the  little  company 
withdrew  to  an  island  and  spent  their  first  Sabbath  in 
thanksgiving  and  praise  to  God.  After  the  toil  of 


IN  NEW  YORK.  29 

Saturday,  companies  came  from  beyond  the  Harlem 
River  to  reach  the  church  before  the  dawn  of  Sunday, 
that  they  might  not  break  the  Sabbath.  Starting  after 
midnight  on  the  Sabbath,  the  little  company  would 
walk  all  the  way  back,  beguiling  their  path  with  sacred 
song,  and  reach  home  in  season  for  Monday's  work. 
The  spirit  of  these  devout  Dutchmen  lingers  in  the  city. 
No  place  of  its  size  is  more  secure,  is  freer  from  crime, 
or  has  law  better  administered.  A  large  city  is  worse 
than  a  small  one,  because  bad  men  can  hide  themselves 
in  its  solitude.  They  find  scope  for  their  talent  and 
genius.  The  crime  of  England  is  concentrated  in  Lon- 
don. Barricades  in  Paris  touch  public  security  in  the 
remotest  provinces  of  France.  Bad  men  locate  in  New 
York,  fix  there  their  headquarters,  and  reduce  roguery 
to  a  system.  They  have  their  banks,  expressmen,  artists 
and  agents.  These  men  dwell  in  the  dark  recesses  and 
hidden  chambers  of  the  city.  But  to  New  York  come 
also  the  most  talented  and  best  of  men.  The  talent, 
ability,  integrity,  shrewdness  and  sharpness  which 
make  a  small  fortune  in  any  other  place,  make  a 
large  one  in  New  York.  The  best  ability  in  the  nation 
finds  scope  in  the  city  "  whose  merchants  are  princes, 
whose  traffickers  are  the  honorable  of  the  earth."  Large 
societies,  whose  streams  of  humanity  and  religion  fer- 
tilize the  earth,  have  their  fountains  here.  Colleges, 
seminaries,  schools,  in  the  new  and  sparse  settlements 
of  the  land,  are  built  by  New  York  beneficence.  The 
lamp  of  religion,  which  burns  in  the  dark  islands  of  the 
sea,  is  fed  by  the  hands  of  the  bountiful  in  our  city. 
The  feet  of  the  swift  runner  on  the  mountains  of  bar- 
barism, who  carries  the  good  tidings  of  salvation  to  the 


30  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

dwellers  in  the  habitations  of  cruelty,  are  made  strong 
by  the  cheerful  gifts  of  our  people.  In  no  city  are 
churches  more  elegant  and  numerous,  congregations 
richer  and  more  liberal,  preachers  more  learned  or 
eloquent.  Lawyers  who  have  become  famous  else- 
where join  the  New  York  bar.  The  shrewdest  mer- 
chants of  the  land,  energetic,  far-seeing,  and  successful, 
find  full  scope  for  their  ability  in  this  great  centre  of 
commerce  and  trade.  The  inexorable  law  of  business 
for  half  a  century  demands  integrity  no  less  than 
talent,  if  one  would  have  success.  Thousands  of  men 
have  commenced  business  in  New  York  with  the  motto, 
"  All  is  fair  in  trade,"  who  are  "  as  honest  as  the  times 
will  allow."  None  such  have  ever  had  permanent 
success.  A  man  might  as  well  steer  his  bark  in  a  dark 
and  stormy  night,  on  a  deep  and  treacherous  sea,  by  a 
lantern  on  his  bowsprit,  rather  than  by  the  light-house 
on  the  fixed  shore,  as  to  expect  business  success  with- 
out commercial  principle.  Success  in  New  York  is  the 
exception,  failure  the  general  rule.  One  can  count  on 
his  fingers  the  firms  who  have  had  a  quarter  of  a 
century's  prosperity.  Such  have  been  eminent  for  their 
commercial  integrity,  for  personal  attention  to  business, 
to  the  inflexible  rule  that  the  purchaser  should  carry 
away  the  exact  article  he  bought. 

AN    EXAMPLE. 

In  a  little  room  in  one  of  the  by-streets  of  New 
York,  up  a  narrow,  dingy  flight  of  stairs,  a  man  may  be 
found  doing  a  little  brokerage  which  his  friends  put 
into  his  hands.  That  man  at  one  time  inherited  the 
name  and  fortune  of  a  house  which  America  delighted 


IN  NEW  YORK.  31 

to  honor.  That  house  was  founded  by  two  lads  who 
left  their  homes  to  seek  their  fortune  in  a  great  city. 
They  owned  nothing  but  the  clothes  they  wore,  and  a 
small  bundle  tied  to  a  stick  and  thrown  over  their 
shoulders.  Their  clothes  were  homespun,  were  woven 
under  the  parental  roof,  and  cut  and  made  by  motherly 
skill  and  sisterly  affection.  Their  shoes  were  coarse 
and  heavy,  and  they  walked  the  whole  distance  from 
their  home  to  the  city  towards  which  they  looked  for 
position  and  fame.  They  carried  with  them  the  rich 
boon  of  a  mother's  blessing  and  a  mother's  prayers. 
They  were  honest,  industrious,  truthful,  and  temperate. 
They  did  anything  they  found  to  do  that  was  honest. 
They  began  a  little  trade,  which  increased  on  their 
hands,  and  extended  till  it  reached  all  portions  of  the 
civilized  world.  Their  credit  became  as  extensive  as 
our  commerce.  They  identified  themselves  with  every 
good  work.  Education,  humanity,  and  religion  blessed 
their  munificence.  The  founders  of  the  house  died, 
leaving  a  colossal  fortune  and  a  name  without  a  stain. 
They  left  their  business  and  their  reputation  to  the 
man  who  occupies  the  little  chamber  that  we  have 
referred  to.  He  abandoned  the  principles  on  which 
the  fame  and  honor  of  the  house  had  been  built  up. 
He  stained  the  name  that  for  fifty  years  had  been  un- 
tarnished. Between  two  days  he  fled  from  his  home. 
He  wandered  under  an  assumed  name.  Widows  and 
orphans  who  had  left  trust  money  in  his  hands  lost 
their  all.  In  his  fall  he  dragged  down  the  innocent, 
and  spread  consternation  on  all  sides.  A  few  years 
passed,  and  after  skulking  about"  in  various  cities  abroad, 
lie  ventured  back.  Men  were  too  kind  to  harm  him. 


32  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

Those  whom  he  had  befriended  in  the  days  of  his 
prosperity  helped  him  to  a  little  brokerage  to  earn  his 
bread.  In  one  of  our  cities  a  granite  store  was  built. 
It  had  a  fair,  strong  outside  show.  The  builder  said 
it  would  stand  if  filled  with  pig-lead.  The  building  was 
filled  with  valuable  merchandise.  In  the  midst  of 
business  one  day,  the  floors  gave  way,  carrying  every- 
thing into  the  cellar,  the  inmates  barely  escaping  with 
their  lives.  Deep  down  among  the  foundations,  under 
an  important  pillar,  an  unfaithful  workman  had  put  an 
imperfect  stone.  The  exact  pressure  came,  and  the 
wreck  was  complete.  New  York  is  full  of  such  wrecks. 

THE   MINISTRY    OF   NEW   YORK. 

This  city  is  the  paradise  of  preachers.  The  clergy 
are  independent,  and  are  well  supported.  Many  who 
came  to  the  city  poor  are  rich.  Some  have  saved  a 
fortune;  others  have  married  a  fortune;  others  have 
been  fortunate  in  speculations  in  stock,  oil,  and  real 
estate.  Ministers  can  do  in  New  York,  and  maintain 
their  position,  what  the  profession  can  do  in  no  other 
city.  No  churches  are  more  elegant,  or  parsonages  more 
costly,  than  those  of  the  Methodist  denomination,  and 
their  ministers  enjoy  salaries  exceeded  by  few.  Trinity 
Church,  the  wealthiest  corporation  in  the  land,  has 
four  parishes,  a  rector,  and  six  assistant  ministers.  The 
rector  has  a  salary  of  ten  thousand  dollars,  and  a  house. 
The  assistants  have  each  six  thousand  dollars  and  a 
house.  Munificent  presents,  a  tour  to  Europe,  a  life  set- 
tlement, a  provision  for  sickness  and  old  age,  are  among 
the  perquisites  which  these  ministers  enjoy.  Dr.  Spring, 
of  the  Old  Brick  Church,  came  to  New  York  a  young 


IN  NEW  YORK.  33 

man  and  poor.  He  has  always  lived  in  a  fashionable 
part  of  the  city,  keeps  his  carriage  and  footman,  and  is 
a  wealthy  citizen.  From  Philadelphia  to  the  old  Beek- 
man  Street  Church  of  St.  George  came  Dr.  Tyng.  A 
large  salary  has  enabled  him  to  live  in  good  style.  He 
rides  in  his  carriage,  owns  valuable  real  estate,  and  is 
wealthy.  Dr.  Hardenburg,  of  the  Reformed  Dutch 
Church,  has  always  lived  in  good  style,  and,  possessing 
a  fortune,  dwells  at  his  ease.  Dr.  Van  Nest  is  one  of 
the  richest  men  in  New  York.  His  own  wealth  and 
that  of  his  wife  make  a  colossal  fortune.  The  Col- 
legiate Church,  older  than  Trinity,  and  quite  as  wealthy, 
has  four  pastors,  to  each  of  whom  an  elegant  house  and 
a  liberal  salary  are  given.  Dr.  Vermillye,  who  came  to 
the  city  from  a  small  Congregational  church  in  Massa- 
chusetts, is  in  possession  of  a  handsome  fortune,  and 
dwells  in  metropolitan  style  in  the  upper  part  of  New 
York.  Dr.  Adams  has  a  fine  fortune,  and  dwells  in  a 
fine  mansion  within  a  stone's  throw  of  that  abode  of 
aristocracy,  Madison  Square.  Dr.  Spear,  by  a  fortunate 
speculation  in  stocks,  acquired  a  fortune.  Dr.  Smith, 
his  neighbor,  bought  an  oil  well,  and  wrote  himself 
down  worth  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars. 
Professor  Hitchcock,  of  Union  Seminary,  owns  the  ele- 
gant mansion  in  which  he  lives  on  Fifth  Avenue.  Dr. 
Taylor,  of  Grace  Church,  had  one  of  the  most  costly 
city  residences,  and,  with  his  country-seat,  lived  like  a 
millionnaire.  Drs.  Burchard  and  Hatfield  live  in  fine 
brown-stone  mansions,  which  they  own,  and  in  which 
they  enjoy  the  comforts  of  a  luxurious  home.  Dr. 
Crosby  inherits  the  vast  wealth*  of  his  father.  Dr. 
Booth  dwells  at  ease,  supported  by  a  wealthy  parish 
3 


34  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

and  a  wealthy  parent.  Dr.  Farley,  supported  by  one 
of  the  wealthiest  congregations  in  the  state,  resigned, 
and  took  with  him,  as  a  parting  gift,  a  donation  of 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars.  Dr.  Osgood  has  always 
enjoyed  a  large  salary,  has  a  fine  city  residence,  and 
a  country-seat,  where  he  passes  his  summer  vacations. 
In  no  place  on  the  continent  are  parishes  more  liberal, 
more  considerate,  more  devoted  to  their  pastors,  than 
in  New  York.  Such  seldom  leave  till  borne  to  their 
burial. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  35 


II. 

HIGH    LIFE    IN    NEW    YORK. 

MONEYOCRACY. —  A  MASKED  BALL. — WHO  HAS  MONEY. — PARTIES,  WED- 
DINGS, FUNERALS. — BROWN,  OF  GRACE  CHURCH.  —  CHURCH-GOERS. — 
THE  OPERA.  —  YELLOW  KIDS.  —  CLUBS. 

WITH  the  elite  of  New  York,  so  called,  money  is  the 
principal  thing.  The  best  society  of  New  York  is  not  to 
be  found  among  the  elite.  If  you  wish  parties,  soirees, 
balls,  that  are  elegant,  attractive,  and  genteel,  you  will 
not  find  them  among  the  snobish  clique,  who,  with 
nothing  but  money,  attempt  to  rule  New  York.  Talent, 
taste,  and  refinement  do  not  dwell  with  these.  But 
high  life  has  no  passport  except  money.  If  a  man  has 
this,  though  destitute  of  character  and  brains,  he  is 
made  welcome.  One  may  come  from  Botany  Bay  or 
St.  James ;  with  a  ticket  of  leave  from  a  penal  colony 
or  St.  Cloud ;  if  he  has  diamond  rings  and  a  coach,  all 
places  will  be  opened  to  him.  The  leaders  of  upper 
New  York  were,  a  few  years  ago,  porters,  stable-boys, 
coal-heavers,  pickers  of  rags,  scrubbers  of  floors,  and 
laundry  women.  Coarse,  rude,  ignorant,  uncivil,  and 
immoral  many  of  them  are  still.  Lovers  of  pleasure 
and  men  of  fashion  bow  and  cringe  to  such,  and 
approach  hat  in  hand.  One  of  our  new-fledged  mil- 
lion naires  gave  a  ball  in  his  stable.  The  invited  came 
with  tokens  of  delight.  The  host,  a  few  years  ago,  was 


36  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

a  ticket  taker  at  one  of  our  ferries,  and  \vouia  nave 
thankfully  blacked  the  boots  or  done  any  menial  service 
for  the  people  who  clamor  for  the  honor  of  his  hand. 
At  the  gate  of  Central  Park,  every  day,  splendid  coaches 
may  be  seen,  in  which  sit  large,  fat,  coarse  women,  who 
carry  with  them  the  marks  of  the  wash-tub.  These 
people  have  money.  They  spend  it  in  untold  sums  for 
balls,  parties,  and  soirees,  and  in  drawing  upper  New 
York  into  their  gaudy  mansions. 

A   MASKED    BALL. 

A  young  Boston  lady,  by  an  eligible  marriage  with  a 
princely  merchant,  became  the  mistress  of  an  extensive 
mansion  in  Madison  Square.  While  in  France  she 
captivated  the  emperor  by  her  superb  dancing  and 
graceful  skating.  His  majesty  sent  her  a  costly 
present.  At  Saratoga  and  Newport  she  drove  her  own 
dashing  team  with  her  footman  behind,  and  became  the 
most  conspicuous  of  the  visitors  at  those  gay  places. 
She  resolved  to  give  a  fancy  ball,  and  all  the  elite 
were  in  a  fever  of  excitement.  Brown,  of  Grace 
Church,  had  charge  of  the  invitations,  and  five 
hundred  were  given  out.  All  the  guests  were  in 
costume.  Three  fourths  of  the  guests  wore  masks. 
The  dresses  were  rich,  elegant,  and  costly.  Suits  were 
ordered  from  Paris  and  London.  The  hostess  appeared 
as  the  Goddess  of  Music.  Her  dress  was  short,  and  her 
boots  scarlet  and  trimmed  with  small  bells.  On  her 
head  was  a  lyre,  from  which  issued  brilliant  jets  of 
burning  gas.  Stock  brokers,  men  in  high  life,  and  fast 
New  Yorkers,  appeared  in  various  characters,  among 
which  the  representatives  of  a  monkey  and  of  Satan 


IN  NEW  YORK.  37 

attracted  the  most  attention.  The  mansion  was  su- 
perbly fitted  up.  Thousands  of  dollars  were  spent  in 
floral  decorations.  Plate  of  gold  arid  silver,  china  from 
beyond  the  seas,  adorned  the  table.  Servants  in  brilliant 
gold  and  silver  livery  waited  on  the  guests.  Hidden 
bands  sent  music  through  the  mansion.  The  supper 
lasted  till  five  in  the  morning.  The  last  strains  of  music 
for  the  dancers  closed  at  six.  The  counting-rooms  were 
thrown  open,  the  hammer  of  the  artisan  was  heard, 
carmen  and  laborers  were  at  their  work,  before  the 
festivities  ended  and  the  door  closed  on  the  last 
departing  guest.  Such  is  high  life  in  New  York. 

WHO    HAS    MONEY. 

Much  of  the  society  of  New  York  is  very  select, 
intellectual,  and  genteel.  But  the  moneyed  aristocracy, 
those  who  crowd  gilded  saloons  and  make  up  the 
parties  of  the  ton,  who  are  invited  to  soirees,  fancy 
balls,  and  late  suppers,  are  among  the  coarsest,  most 
vulgar  and  illiterate  of  our  people.  Money  is  made 
easily  by  many  in  New  York  ;  fortunes  are  acquired  in 
a  day ;  families  go  from  a  shanty  on  a  back  street  to  a 
brown-stone  front  in  upper  New  York,  but  they  carry 
with  them  their  vulgar  habits,  and  disgust  those  who 
from  social  position  are  compelled  to  invite  them  to 
their  houses.  At  a  fashionable  party,  persons  are 
invited  according  to  their  bank  account,  and  to  their 
standing  on  'change.  A  fashionable  party  is  made  up 
of  representatives  of  all  nations  and  all  religions  — 
men  and  women  who  can  speak  the  English  language 
and  those  who  cannot,  Jews  and  Gentiles,  Irish  and 
Germans,  red-faced  and  heavy-bearded  men,  coarse- 


38  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

featured,  red-faced,  uncultivated  women,  who  are 
loaded  down  with  jewelry  and  covered  with  satins,  who 
can  eat  as  much  as  a  soldier  in  the  trenches.  If  they 
give  a  party,  they  give  it  to  those  who  ridicule  their 
position  and  manners.  If  they  go  to  a  party,  they 
laugh  in  their  turn. 


BROWN,  OF  GRACE  CHURCH. 


The  most  famous  man  connected  with  New  York 
high  life  is  Brown,  the  sexton  of  Grace  Church.  For 
many  years,  Grace  has  been  the  centre  of  fashionable 
New  York.  To  be  married  or  buried  within  its  walls 
has  been  ever  considered  the  height  of  felicity.  For 
many  years,  Brown  has  stood  at  the  entrance  to  fashion- 
able life.  He  gets  up  parties,  engineers  bridals,  and 
conducts  funerals,  more  genteelly  than  any  other  man., 
"  The  Lenten  season  is  a  horridly  dull  season,"  he  is 
reported  to  have  said ; es  but  we  manage  to  make  our 
funerals  as  entertaining  as  possible."  No  party  in  high 
life  is  complete  without  him.  A  fashionable  lady,  about 
to  have  a  fashionable  gathering  at  her  house,  orders 
her  meats  from  the  butcher,  her  supplies  from  the 
grocer,  her  cakes  and  ices  from  the  confectioner;  but 
her  invitations  she  puts  into  the  hands  of  Brown.  He 
knows  whom  to  invite  and  whom  to  omit.  He  knows  * 
who  will  come, who  will  not  come,  but  will  send  regrets. 
In  case  of  a  pinch,  he  can  fill  up  the  list  with  young 
men,  picked  up  about  town,  in  black  swallow-tailed 
coats,  white  vests,  and  white  cravats,  who,  in  considera- 
tion of  a  fine  supper  and  a  dance,  will  allow  themselves 
to  be  passed  off  as  the  sons  of  distinguished  New 
Yorkers.  The  city  has  any  quantity  of  ragged 


IN  NEW  YORK.  39 

noblemen,  seedy  lords  from  Germany,  Hungarian 
barons  out  at  the  elbow,  members  of  the  European 
aristocracy  who  left  their  country  for  their  country's 
good,  who  can  be  served  up  in  proper  proportions  at 
a  fashionable  party  when  the  occasion  demands  it.  No 
man  knows  their  haunts  better  than  Brown.  He  revels 
in  funerals.  Fashion  does  not  change  more  frequently 
in  dress  than  in  the  method  of  conducting  funerals  in 
high  life.  What  constituted  a  very  genteel  funeral  last 
year  would  be  a  very  vulgar  one  this.  Cards  of  invi- 
tation are  sent  out  as  to  a  party.  Sometimes  the 
shutters  of  the  house  are  closed,  and  the  funeral  takes 
place  in  gas-light.  The  lights  are  arranged  for  artistic 
effect.  Parties  who  have  the  entree  of  fashionable  life 
can  tell,  the  moment  they  enter  the  rooms,  what 
fashionable  sexton  has  charge  of  the  funeral.  The 
arrangement  of  the  furniture,  the  position  of  the 
coffin,  the  laying  out  of  the  body,  the  coffin  itself,  the 
adjustment  of  the  lights,  the  hanging  of  the  drapery, 
the  plate-glass  hearse,  the  number  of  horses,  the  size 
and  quality  of  the  plumes  on  the  hearse  and  team, 
indicate  the  style  of  the  funeral,  and  the  wealth  and 
social  position  of  the  family.  Mourning  has  a  style 
peculiar  to  itself,  and  the  intensity  of  the  grief  is 
indicated  by  the  depth  of  the  crape.  Brown  is  a  huge 
fellow,  coarse  in  his  features,  resembling  a  dressed-up 
carman.  His  face  is  very  red,  and  on  Sundays  he 
passes  up  and  down  the  aisles  of  Grace  Church  with  a 
peculiar  swagger.  He  bows  strangers  into  a  pew,  when 
he  deigns  to  give  them  a  seat,  with  a  majestic  and 
patronizing  air,  designed  to  impress  them  with  a  real- 
izing sense  of  the  obligation  he  has  conferred  upon  them. 


40  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 


YELLOW    KIDS. 

Fashionable  New  York  is  distinguished  by  yellow 
kids.  The  supply  must  be  large,  for  the  demand  is 
great.  Wherever  you  find  fashionable  New  York  or 
young  New  York,  there  you  will  find  yellow  kids.  On 
New  Year's  Day,  when  thousands  throng  the  streets, 
every  man  you  meet,  young  or  old,  who  makes  any 
pretension  to  society,  wears  yellow  gloves.  When  the 
Common  Council  turn  out,  every  man  sports  a  pair  at 
the  city's  expense.  In  Broadway  or  at  Central  Park, 
at  the  opera  or  in  church,  these  glaring  appendages 
flash  before  the  eye.  A  fashionable  New  Yorker  may 
have  seedy  clothes,  a  hat  out  of  season,  boots  the  worse 
for  wear,  still  he  will  sport  his  yellow  kids. 

CLUBS. 

After  the  London  fashion,  clubs  are  becoming 
common  among  the  upper  ten.  They  have  not  yet  got 
the  political  significance  of  those  of  the  old  world. 
The  Loyal  League,  in  its  elegant  quarters  on  Union 
Square,  is  Republican.  The  Manhattan  Club  is  Dem- 
ocratic. But  these  are  for  occasional  festivals.  The 
members  of  each  belong  to  the  different  clubs  of  the 
city.  The  most  elegant  buildings  on  Fifth  Avenue  are 
club  houses.  They  are  furnished  in  the  most  gorgeous 
manner.  Every  convenience  of  comfort  and  luxury 
that  can  be  conceived  is  found  within  the  walls.  Nearly 
every  club-house  indicates  the  brief  life  of  a  New 
York  aristocrat.  A  lucky  speculation,  a  sudden  rise  in 
real  estate,  a  new  turn  of  the  wheel  of  fortune,  lifts 
up  the  man  who  yesterday  could  not  be  trusted  for  his 


IN  NEW  YORK.  41 

dinner,  and  gives  him  a  place  among  the  men  of  wealth. 
He  buys  a  lot  on  Fifth  Avenue ;  puts  up  a  palatial 
residence,  outdoing  all  who  have  gone  before  him ; 
sports  his  gay  team  in  Central  Park,  carpets  his 
sidewalk,  gives  two  or  three  parties,  and  disappears 
from  society.  His  family  return  to  the  sphere  from 
which  they  were  taken,  and  his  mansion,  with  its 
gorgeous  furniture,  becomes  a  club-house.  ThesQ  houses 
are  becoming  more  and  more  numerous.  They  are 
breaking  up  what  little  social  and  domestic  life  remains 
in  the  city!  Few  homes  are  known  to  New  York  high 
life.  Men  go  to  the  club  to  dine,  and  spend  their 
evenings  amid  its  fascinations. 


42  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


III. 

WALL    STREET. 

INAUGURATION    OF    WASHINGTON. — FINANCIAL,    CENTRE. — CAPITAL    IN    WALL 

STREET.  CHAMBER      OF    THE     BOARD    OF   BROKERS.  — HEADQUARTERS. — 

BROAD    STREET.  — CURBSTONE    BROKERS. AN   INSIDE   VIE"V\l. —  INCIDENTS. 

—  THE  SEPULCHRE   OF   FORTUNES.  —  HOW    SHREWD   MEN    ARE   RUINED. 

IN  the  financial  centre  of  this  city  the  United  States 
government  was  set  in  motion.  Where  the  United 
States  Treasury  Building  now  stands,  facing  Broad 
Street,  the  Old  City  Hall  once  stood.  On  the  balcony 
of  that  hall  General  Washington  was  inaugurated 
President  of  the  United  States.  The  dwelling  in  which 
he  resided  still  stands  in  the  lower  part  of  Broad  Street. 
From  this  place  he  came  up  under  an  escort.  Wall 
Street,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  City  Hall,  and  Broad  Street 
were  crowded  with  citizens  and  strangers.  Washington 
appeared  on  the  balcony,  attended  by  eminent  men, 
who,  with  him,  had  carried  the  Ee volution  to  a  success- 
ful issue.  The  president  reverently  took  the  oath  of 
office,  administered  by  the  chancellor.  When  Chancel- 
lor Livingston  pronounced  the  memorable  words, — 
"  LONG  LIVE  GEORGE  WASHINGTON,  PRESIDENT  OF  THE 
UNITED  STATES!"  they  were  acclaimed  and  taken  up 
with  enthusiasm  and  tears  by  the  assembled  thou- 
sands, as  America  took  her  place  among  the  nations 
of  the  earth. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  43 


FINANCIAL    CENTRE. 

What  Threadneedle  Street  is  to  England,  Wall  Street 
is  to  America.  It  is  a  narrow  street,  in  the  lower  part 
of  New  York,  running  from  Broadway  to  the  East 
River.  At  the  head  of  Wall  Street  stands  the  massive 
Trinity  Church,  the  Cathedral  of  the  city.  It  lifts  its 
tall  steeple  to  heaven,  amid  the  din  and  babel  of  business. 
From  its  tower  magnificent  bells  strike  out  the  quarter 
and  half  hours  of  the  day,  and  chime,  with  mellifluous 
peals  the  full  ones,  telling  the  anxious,  excited  and 
rushing  crowd  how  swiftly  life  passes.  The  great 
moneyed  institutions  of  the  country  are  in  Wall  Street. 
Here  stands  the  elegant  granite  building  devoted  to 
the  United  States  Treasury  in  New  York.  The  work  is 
highly  ornamental.  Brilliant  painting  and  gilding  ap- 
pear everywhere.  Solid  mahogany  desks  and  marble 
counters  are  beautiful  to  the  eye.  But  there  is  strength 
as  well  as  beauty.  The  heavy  vaults,  where  repose  the 
treasures  of  the  government,  are  caverns  of  massive 
granijbe.  The  chambers,  where  the  gold  is  counted,  are 
merely  stone  cells.  Huge  iron  fences,  running  from 
the  floor  to  the  ceiling,  and  heavy  iron  gates,  guard 
against  surprise.  These  iron  barriers  cross  and  recross 
each  other,  so  that  a  mob  would  gain  but  little  should 
it  obtain  an  entrance  into  the  building.  In  Wall  Street 
the  Custom  House  is  located.  The  costly  banking 
houses  adorn  the  street,  where  men  whose  integrity 
and  repute  have  made  America  honorable  in  all  parts  of 
the  world  can  be  found.  The  men  of  money  of  the  city, 
the  millionnaires,  speculators,  and  leading  financiers, 
have  here  their  headquarters.  The  heaviest  financial 


44  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

operations  are  transacted  in  cellars  and  underground 
rooms,  in  dingy  and  narrow  chambers,  in  the  attics  of 
old  buildings,  which  are  reached  by  rickety  and  creak- 
ing stairs,  which  threaten  to  give  way  under  one's  tread. 
Here  is  high  'change.  The  men  whose  names  are  so 
familiar  with  stock  and  money  transactions  can  be 
found  between  twelve  and  three.  The  heaviest  opera- 
tors have  no  offices  of  their  own.  At  certain  hours  of 
the  day  they  can  be  found  in  the  chambers  of  leading 
brokers.  Some  of  them  occupy  mere  dens.  Men  who 
control  the  leading  railroads,  and  other  great  stocks, 
who  can  agitate  the  financial  world  in  an  hour,  will 
usually  be  found  in  some  small  room  near  Wall  Street, 
sitting  with  a  crowd  of  speculators,  who  are  their 
lackeys,  and  who  are  ever  ready  to  do  the  will  of 
great  financiers. 

CHAMBER  OP  THE  BOARD  OF  BROKERS. 

This  controlling  institution  is  entered  from  Wall 
Street  and  Broad.  It  is  a  marble  building,  of  great 
elegance.  The  Gold  Room,  where  the  daily  sales  take 
place,  is  one  of  the  most  brilliant  rooms  in  the  city. 
The  vaults  are  models  of  security.  They  have  in 
them  two  hundred  and  fifty  safes,  each  secured  by 
independent  locks,  which  have  in  them  a  million  com- 
binations. No  two  locks  are  alike.  Each  member  of 
the  Board  of  Brokers  has  a  safe  assigned  to  him.  In 
these  vaults  repose  the  treasures  of  the  millionnaires 
of  New  York.  The  board  was  organized  in  1794.  At 
one  time  the  entrance  fee  was  fifty  dollars.  It  is  now 
three  thousand  dollars.  A  candidate  is  put  on  proba- 
tion for  ten  days.  His  financial  honor  must  be  without 


IN  NEW   YORK.  45 

• 

a  stain.  Application  must  be  made  through  some  well- 
known  member,  and  the  fact  is  made  public.  If  no 
objection  is  made,  a  ballot  is  had.  Fourteen  black  balls 
defeat  an  election.  The  initiation  fee  is  put  high,  that 
none  but  men  of  capital  and  honor  may  be  admitted. 
The  rules  are  extremely  stringent.  A  violation  is  fol- 
lowed by  summary  ejection.  Every  contract  is  made 
on  honor,  and  must  be  kept  to  the  letter,  or  the  party 
is  expelled,  whoever  he  may  be.  For  instance,  a  hun- 
dred shares  of  Erie  are  sold  at  the  board  by  one  broker 
to  another.  The  seller  delivers  the  stock,  and  takes  in 
payment  the  check  of  the  buyer.  The  check  is  known 
to  be  worthless.  The  buyer  cannot  pay  till  he  has 
delivered  the  stock  to  the  customer  who  ordered  it. 
But  the  check  will  be  made  good  before  three  o'clock. 
Millions  of  stock  pass  daily  from  one  hand  to  another 
in  this  way.  During  all  the  years  of  the  existence  of 
the  board  but  one  member  has  been  found  guilty  of 
fraud.  Some  of  the  sharp,  bold  operators,  who  bull  and 
bear  the  market,  cannot  get  into  the  board  at  any 
price.  They  would  give  ten  thousand  dollars  to  be- 
come members.  Their  financial  reputation  is  bad,  and 
they  cannot  enter.  These  men  operate  through  mem- 
bers of  the  board. 

AN    INSIDE    VIEW. 

On  entering  the  building,  the  members  pass  up  a 
broad  flight  of  stairs  into  a  small  ante-room,  where  their 
tickets  are  examined.  They  are  then  admitted  into 
the  Gold  Room.  It  is  a  very  gorgeous  room.  It  is  as 
elegant  as  wealth  and  taste  can  make  it.  The  stuffed 
arm-chairs  are  inlaid  with  sold.  The  walls  are  covered 


46  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

with  green  silk,  lapped  in  heavy  folds,  instead  of  paper. 
The  ceiling  is  elaborately  painted,  chandeliers  hang 
around.  The  president's  seat  is  magnificent.  The  pres- 
ident has  no  salary.  His  position  is  one  of  honor. 
The  work  of  the  board  is  done  by  the  first  vice-pres- 
ident, who  from  ten  to  one  calls  the  stocks  and  declares 
the  sales.  For  this  monotonous  service  he  has  a  salary 
of  seven  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  a  year.  The 
second  vice-president  presides  over  the  second  board, 
and  has  three  thousand  dollars  a  year  for  his  work.  A 
regular  stock  list  is  made  out.  No  stock  can  be  sold  at 
the  board  that  is  not  on  the  list.  Guarantees  are 
required  from  all  parties  who  offer  stock,  and  none  can 
be  put  on  the  daily  list  without  a  vote  of  the  board. 
At  high  'change,  the  room,  that  will  hold  a  thousand, 
is  packed.  In  front  of  the  president's  desk  is  a  deep 
basin,  called  the  cock-pit.  In  this  basin  is  an  oblong 
table,  fastened  to  the  floor  by  iron  clamps.  Without 
this,  the  excited  crowd  who  huddle  together  in  the 
cock-pit  would  trample  each  other  to  death. 

Daily  some  stock  excites  the  market.  Its  unexpected 
rise  or  fall  produces  intense  feeling.  The  lists  of  stocks 
are  usually  quietly  sold  without  attention.  The  ex- 
citing stocks  are  well  known,  and  when  called,  arouse 
the  whole  chamber.  Chairs  are  abandoned,  men  rush 
pell-mell  into  the  cock-pit,  and  crowd,  jostle,  push,  and 
trample  on  one  another.  They  scream  out  their  offers 
to  buy  and  sell.  They  speak  all  at  once,  yelling  and 
screaming  like  hyenas.  The  scene  is  very  exciting. 
Pandemonium  is  not  wilder,  or  more  disorderly.  The 
presiding  officer  stands  erect,  cool  and  silent.  Several 


IN  NEW  YORK.  47 

hundred  men  surge  before  him,  stamping,  yelling, 
screaming,  jumping,  sweating,  gesticulating,  violently 
shaking  their  fists  in  each  other's  faces,  talking  in  a 
tongue  not  spoken  at  Pentecost.  The  president  holds 
in  his  hand  a  mallet  of  ivory,  and  before  him  is  a  block 
of  wood  encased  in  brass.  On  this  he  strikes  with  his 
mallet,  to  control  the  intense  excitement.  Without  it 
he  would  pound  his  desk  to  pieces  in  a  short  time.  So 
many  minutes  are  allowed  for  the  sale  of  stock.  In  the 
midst  of  this  mad  frenzy  and  apparent  disorder,  everv 
word  of  which  is  understood  by  the  initiated,  the  mallet 
comes  down  with  a  shower  of  vigorous  blows.  "  Order ! 
order ! "  runs  through  the  chamber.  The  noise  and 
tempest  is  hushed  in  a  moment.  "  No  more  offers  to- 
day, gentlemen ! "  the  officer  says,  as  the  name  of  the 
buyer  is  announced.  If  the  sale  is  contested,  the  pres- 
ident names  the  buyer.  If  an  appeal  is  taken  from  his 
decision,  it  is  settled  on  the  spot  by  a  vote  of  the  board. 
A  hundred  thousand  dollars  often  hangs  on  that  de- 
cision. The  party  against  whom  it  is  given  can  do 
nothing  but  submit. 

CURBSTONE   BROKERS. 

Men  who  have  a  capital  ranging  from  one  dollar  to 
ten  thousand  occupy  the  basement  of  the  building 
where  the  Board  of  Brokers  meet.  This  hall  is  open  to 
all  who  can  pay  the  small  sum  of  one  hundred  dollars  a 
year.  It  is  open  all  day  for  stock  operations.  It  has  no 
rules,  and  men  with  character  and  without  have  a 
chance  to  speculate  as  they  please.  Men  who  cannot 
get  into  the  upper  room,  or  have  been  turned  out  of 


48  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

the  regular  board  of  brokers,  find  refuge  here.  They 
run  over  into  the  street,  fill  the  alleys,  gutters,  and 
curbstones,  making  a  motley  crowd,  who  all  day  long 
make  the  neighborhood  hideous  with  their  shoutings, 
yellings,  and  quarrellings.  The  sidewalk  is  impassable. 
Teams  can  scarcely  get  through  Broad  Street,  and  the 
brokers  are  pronounced  a  nuisance.  Having  nothing 
to  lose,  they  are  reckless,  unprincipled  and  dishonest. 

THE  SEPULCHRE  OF  FORTUNES. 

The  failures  and  reverses  of  mercantile  life  are  com- 
mon to  New  York.  Scarcely  a  firm  stands  that  has 
been  in  business  a  quarter  of  a  century.  Stock  spec- 
ulations underlie  these  failures.  Gambling  is  not 
more  seductive  or  more  ruinous.  The  few  who  rise 
to  sudden  wealth  by  dabbling  in  stocks  tempt  the 
many  to  venture  on  this  treacherous  sea.  Professional 
men  of  all  classes  and  all  grades,  merchants,  retired 
capitalists,  trustees,  widows,  farmers,  try  their  hand  at 
gaining  sudden  wealth  in  Wall  Street.  Merchants  who 
have  a  large  balance  in  the  bank,  hotel  men  who  have 
made  money,  salesmen  and  clerks,  are  tempted  to  make 
a  venture,  and  bring  only  ruin  on  themselves,  their 
families,  and  their  employers. 

Men  who  live  in  Wall  Street  live  fast,  and  grow 
prematurely  old.  They  gamble  in  stocks  all  day.  They 
renew  the  contest  of  Wall  Street  in  the  hotels  at  night. 
Sunday  brings  some  of  them  no  repose.  They  live  high, 
drink  deep,  and  the  excitement  in  stocks  during  the 
day  is  exchanged  for  gaming  at  night.  Bald  heads  on 
young  men,  premature  gray  hairs,  nervous  debility, 


IN  NEW  YORK.  49 

paralysis  and  untimely  decay,  which  mark  so  many 
of  the  business  men  of  New  York,  with  ruined  fortunes 
and  characters,  show  how  perilous  and  unsatisfactory  is 
life  in  Wall  Street. 

HOW   SHREWD   MEN   ARE  RUINED. 

The  sudden  collapse  of  fortunes,  closing  of  elegant 
mansions,  the  selling  off  of  plate  and  horses  at  auction, 
the  hurling  of  men  down  from  first  class  positions  to 
subordinate  posts,  is  an  every-day  occurrence  in  New 
York.     In  almost  every  case  these  reverses  result  from 
outside  trading,  and    meddling   with  matters   foreign 
to  one's  legitimate  business.     The  city  is  full  of  sharp 
rogues  and  unprincipled   speculators,  who   lie  awake 
nights  to  catch  the  unwary.     None  are  more  easily  en- 
snared than  hotel-keepers,  and  this  is  the  way  it  is  done: 
A  well-dressed,  good-looking  man  comes  into  a  hotel, 
and   brings  his  card  as  the  president  of  some  great 
stock  company.     In  a  careless,  indifferent  way  he  asks 
to  look  at  a  suite  of  rooms.     He  has  previously  ascer- 
tained that  the  proprietor  has  from  fifty  to  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars  in  the  bank  waiting  for  something  to 
turn  up.     The  rooms  shown  are  not  good  enough.     He 
wants   rooms   that   will   accommodate    certain   distin- 
guished gentlemen,  whom  he  names,  who  happen  to 
be  the  well-known  leading  financiers  of  the  great  cities. 
A  better   suite  is  shown  the  president.     The  cost  is 
high  —  one  thousand  dollars  a  month.     But  the  rooms 
suit;  he  must  accommodate  his  friends ;  a  few  thousands 
one  way  or  the  other  won't  make  much  difference  with 
his  company  ;  so  he  concludes  to  take  the  rooms.    The 
4 


50  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

landlord  hints  at  references ;  the  president  chuckles  at 
the  idea  that  he  should  be  called  upon  for  references ; 
he  never  gives  any ;  but  if  the  landlord  wants  one  or 
two  thousand  dollars,  he  can  have  it.  "  Let  me  see,"  the 
president  says,  very  coolly,  "  I  shall  want  these  rooms 
about  six  months,  off  and  on.  I  may  be  gone  half  the 
time,  or  more.  If  it's  any  accommodation  to  you,  I  will 
give  you  my  check  for  six  thousand  dollars,  and  pay 
the  whole  thing  up."  Of  course  the  landlord  is  all 
smiles,  and  the  president  takes  possession.  Before  the 
six  months  are  out,  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars  of  the  landlord's  money  goes  into  the  hands  of 
the  speculator,  and  a  lot  of  worthless  stock  is  locked 
up  in  the  safe  of  the  hotel. 

Another  scheme  is  equally  successful.  The  rooms 
are  taken,  and  the  occupant  is  the  most  liberal  of 
guests.  Champagne  suppers  and  costly  viands  are 
ordered  without  stint,  and  promptly  paid  for.  Coaches 
with  liveried  drivers  and  footmen,  hired  for  the  occa- 
sion, leave  imposing  cards  at  the  hotel.  The  obsequi- 
ous landlord  and  well-feed  steward  pay  especial  atten- 
tion to  the  wants  of  the  liberal  guest.  Waiters  fly  at 
his  command,  and  the  choicest  tit-bits  are  placed  before 
him.  Picking  his  teeth  after  breakfast  while  the  land- 
lord is  chatting  with  him  some  Saturday  morning  when 
it  rains,  he  expresses  a  wish,  rather  indifferently,  that 
he  had  fifty  thousand  dollars.  His  banker  won't  be 
home  till  Monday  —  don't  care  much  about  it — get 
it  easy  enough  going  down  town  —  wouldn't  go  out  in 
the  rain  for  twice  the  sum  —  indifferent  about  it,  and 
yet  evidently  annoyed.  The  landlord  goes  into  his 


IN  NEW  YORK.  51 

office  and  examines  his  bank  account,  and  finds  he 
can  spare  fifty  thousand  dollars,  without  any  incon- 
venience, till  Monday.  Glad  to  accommodate  his  dis- 
tinguished guest,  who  is  going  to  bring  all  the 
moneyed  men  to  his  hotel,  he  hands  over  the  money, 
which  is  refused  two  or  three  times  before  it  is  taken. 
On  Monday  morning  the  hotel  man  finds  that  his 
distinguished  tenant  has  put  a  Sabbath  between  him- 
self and  pursuit.  Such  tricks  are  played  constantly, 
and  new  victims  are  found  every  day. 


52  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


IV. 

ALEXANDER    T.    STEWART. 

HIS   EARLY   LIFE.  —  ACCIDENT     OP      SUCCESS.  —  NOT    WELL    INFORMED.  —  MR. 

STEWART    IN  HIS   DOWN-TOWN    OFFICE.  —  HIS     SHREWDNESS    AND    TACT.  

HIS    HOME    ON    FIFTH    AVENUE ACCESS     TO     MR.    STEWART    NOT    EASY. 

MR.    STEWART    AS   A  MASTER. 

MR.  STEWART  was  born  in  Ireland.  His  home  was  a 
humble  one.  He  inherited  a  good  constitution,  was 
gifted  with  energy  and  indomitable  perseverance, 
blended  with  great  shrewdness.  His  education  was 
fair.  Two  pious  Scotch  women  interested  themselves 
greatly  in  his  welfare.  They  hoped  to  see  him  in  the 
pulpit.  For  the  sacred  profession  he  made  some 
preparations.  It  is  said  that  even  now,  amid  his 
immense  business,  he  keeps  up  his  classical  readings. 
He  has  been  heard  to  say,  notwithstanding  his  con- 
ceded success  in  mercantile  life,  he  has  doubts  whether 
he  had  not  mistaken  his  calling,  and  would  not  have 
done  better  in  some  other  sphere.  In  1825  he  studied 
the  languages,  under  the  tuition  of  a  celebrated  actor. 
He  then  looked  towards  teaching  as  a  means  of 
livelihood,  and  perhaps  had  not  abandoned  the  idea  of 
entering  the  sacred  profession. 

He  married,  quite  early,  a  Miss  Cornelia  Church,  of 
New  York,  abandoned  his  literary  pursuits,  and  became  a 
trader  in  a  small  way.  A  little  sum  of  money  was  left 


IN   NEW   YORK.  53 

him  by  a  relative  in  Ireland.  He  set  up  store  in  a 
small  room  nearly  opposite  his  present  down-town 
establishment.  His  shop  was  a  little  affair,  only  twelve 
feet  front.  It  was  separated  from  its  neighbor  by  a 
thin  partition,  through  which  all  conversation  could 
be  heard.  The  store  stood  on  what  is  now  known  as 
262  Broadway.  He  tended  shop  from  fourteen  to 
eighteen  hours  a  day.  He  was  his  own  errand  boy, 
porter,  book-keeper,  and  salesman.  He  kept  house  in 
the  humblest  style.  He  lived  over  his  store ;  and  for 
a  time  one  room  served  as  kitchen,  bed-room,  and 
parlor.  His  bed  was  hidden  from  view,  being  enclosed 
within  a  chest  or  bureau.  As  Mr.  Stewart  attended  to 
the  store,  so  Mrs.  Stewart  attended  to  the  work  of  the 
house.  The  increase  of  business  demanded  assistants. 
These  he  boarded,  and  to  accommodate  them  more 
room  was  required.  So  he  added  to  his  single  room. 
He  afterwards  kept  house  in  chambers  on  Hudson 
Street,  his  income  not  warranting  the  taking  of  a  whole 
house.  His  style  of  living  was  very  plain  in  his 
furniture  and  table.  Hardly  a  laborer  among  us  to-day 
would  live  as  plainly  as  Mr.  Stewart  lived  when  he 
began  his  public  career.  But  Mr.  Stewart  always  lived 
within  his  income,  whatever  that  income  was. 

THE  ACCIDENT  OF  SUCCESS. 

Mr.  Stewart  began  business  when  merchants  relied 
upon  themselves.  It  was  not  easy  to  obtain  credit. 
Banks  were  few  and  cautious.  Bankruptcy  was 
regarded  as  a  disgrace  and  a  crime.  Traders  made 
money  out  of  their  customers,  and  not  out  of  their 
creditors.  To  an  accident,  which  would  have  swamped 


54  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

most  men,  Mr.  Stewart  is  indebted  for  his  peculiar  style 
of   business   and   his   colossal   fortune.     While   doing 
business  in  his  little  store,  a  note  became  due,  which  he 
was  unable  to  pay.     A  shopkeeper,  with  a  miscellaneous 
stock  of  goods,  not  very  valuable,  in  a  store  twelve  feet 
front,  had  little  to  hope  from  the  banks.     His  friends 
were  short.     He  resolved  not  to   be    dishonored.     He 
met   the    crisis  boldly.     His  indomitable  will,  shrewd- 
ness, and  energy  came  out.     He  resolved  not  only  to 
protect  his  note,  but  protect  himself  from  being  again 
in   such  a  position.     He    marked  every  article  in  his 
store  down  below  the  wholesale  price.     He  flooded  the 
city  with  hand-bills,  originating    the    selling-off-at-cost 
style  of  advertising.     He  threw  his  handbills  by  thou- 
sands into  the  houses,   basements,  stores,  steamboats, 
and  hotels  of  the  city.     He  told  his  story  to  the  public  ; 
what   he   had,  and   what   he    proposed    to    sell.     He 
promised  them  not  only  bargains,  but  that  every  article 
would   be   found  just  what   it  was    guaranteed   to  be. 
He  took  New  York  by  storm.     He  created   a  furore 
among   housekeepers.     The   little   shop  was   crowded 
with  suspicious  and  half-believing  persons  in  search  of 
bargains.     Mr.  Stewart    presided  in  person.     He  said 
but  little,  offered  his  goods,  and  took  the  cash.     To  all 
attempts  to  beat  him  down,  he  quietly  pointed  to  the 
plainly-written  price  on  each  package.     He  had  hardly 
time  to  eat  or  sleep.     His  name  became   a  household 
word  on  every  lip.    Persons  bought  the  goods,  went 
home,  arid  examined  them.     They  found  not  only  that 
they  had  not  been  cheated,  but  had  really  got  bargains. 
They  spread  the  news  from  house  to  house.     Excited 
New  York  filled  Mr.  Stewart's  shop,  and  crowded  the 


.  IN  NEW  YORK.  55 

pavement  in  front.  Long  before  the  time  named  in 
the  handbill  for  stopping  the  sale,  the  whole  store  was 
cleaned  out,  and  every  article  sold  for  cash.  The 
troublesome  note  was  paid,  and  a  handsome  balance  left 
over.  Mr.  Stewart  resolved  to  purchase  no  more  on 
credit.  The  market  was  dull,  cash  scarce,  and  he  was 
enabled  to  fill  up  his  store  with  a  choice  stock  of  goods 
at  a  small  price.  In  that  little  shanty  on  Broadway  he 
laid  the  solid  foundation  of  that  colossal  fortune  which 
towers  to  the  height  of  thirty  millions. 

HIS    STYLE   OF   BUSINESS. 

Though  Mr.  Stewart  sells  goods  on  credit,  as  do  other 
merchants,  he  buys  solely  for  cash.  If  he  takes  a  note, 
instead  of  getting  it  discounted  at  a  bank,  he  throws  it 
into  a  safe,  and  lets  it  mature.  It  does  not  enter  into 
his  business,  and  the  non-payment  of  it  does  not  disturb 
him.  He  selects  the  style  of  carpet  he  wants,  buys 
every  yard  made  by  the  manufacturer,  and  pays  the 
cash.  He  monopolizes  high-priced  laces,  silks,  costly 
goods,  furs,  and  gloves,  and  compels  the  fashionable 
world  to  pay  him  tribute.  Whether  he  sells  a  first- 
rate  or  a  fourth-rate  article,  the  customer  gets  what  he 
bargains  for.  A  lady  on  a  journey,  who  passes  a  couple 
of  days  in  the  city,  can  find  every  article  that  she 
wants  for  her  wardrobe  at  a  reasonable  price.  She  can 
have  the  goods  made  up  in  any  style,  and  sent  to  her 
hotel  at  a  given  hour,  for  the  opera,  a  ball,  or  for  travel. 
Mr.  Stewart  will  take  a  contract  for  the  complete  outfit 
of  a  steamship  or  steamboat,  like  the  Europa  or  the  St. 
John,  furnish  the  carpets,  mirrors,  chandelier,  china, 
silver  ware,  cutlery,  mattresses,  linen,  blankets,  napkins, 


66  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

with  every  article  needed,  in  any  style  demanded.  He 
can  defy  competition.  He  buys  from  the  manufactories 
at  the  lowest  cash  price.  He  presents  the  original  bills, 
charging  only  a  small  commission.  The  parties  have  no 
trouble,  the  articles  are  of  the  first  class,  they  save 
from  ten  to  twenty  per  cent.,  and  the  small  commission 
pays  Stewart  handsomely.  He  furnishes  hotels  and 
churches  in  the  same  manner.  He  could  supply  the 
army  and  navy  as  easily  as  he  could  fit  out  a 
steamship. 

NOT    WELL    INFORMED. 

The  late  "William  Beecher  told  me  that  Mr.  Stewart 
bought  many  goods  of  him  when  he  first  set  up  for 
himself.  One  day  Mr.  Stewart  came  into  his  store,  and 
said  to  him,  privately,  "  Mr.  Beecher,  a  lady  came  into 
my  store  to-day  and  asked  me  to  show  her  some  hose. 
I  did  not  know  what  the  goods  were,  and  I  told  her  I 
did  not  keep  the  article.  What  did  she  want  ?  "  Mr. 
Beecher  pointed  to  a  box  of  stockings  that  stood  before 
them.  The  young  tradesman  looked,  laughed,  and 
departed. 

IN    HIS    DOWN-TOWN    OFFICE. 

He  attends  personally  to  his  own  business.  His 
office  is  a  small  room  in  his  down-town  store.  No 
merchant  in  New  York  spends  as  many  hours  at  his 
business  as  Mr.  Stewart.  He  is  down  early,  and 
remains  late.  Men  who  pass  through  Broadway  during 
the  small  hours  of  the  night  may  see  the  light  burning 
brightly  from  the  working-room  of  the  marble  palace. 
He  remains  till  the  day's  work  is  closed,  and  everything 
is  squared  up.  He  knows  what  is  in  the  store,  and  not 
a  package  escapes  his  eye.  He  sells  readily  without 


IN  NEW  YOEK.  57 

consulting  book,  invoice,  or  salesman.  He  has  partners, 
but  they  are  partners  only  in  the  profits.  He  can  buy 
and  sell  as  he  will.  He  holds  the  absolute  manage- 
ment of  the  concern  in  his  own  hands.  His  office  is 
on  the  second  story,  and  separated  from  the  sales-room 
by  a  glass  partition  which  goes  half  way  to  the  ceiling 
Here  he  is  usually  to  be  found.  Else  he  is  walking 
about  the  store,  with  a  quiet  tread,  as  if  his  foot  was 
clothed  with  velvet,  —  up  stairs  and  down  stairs,  all 
around,  with  a  keen,  quick,  vigilant  eye,  searching  in 
all  places  and  all  departments,  taking  in  everybody 
and  everything  as  he  passes. 

ACCESS     TO     MR.     STEWART     NOT     EASY. 

• 

It  is  difficult  to  gain  access  to  the  princely  merchant 
Any  man  who  has  run  the  gauntlet  once  will  not  be 
fond  of  repeating  the  experiment.  On  entering  the 
main  door,  a  gentleman  stands  guard,  who  says,  "  What 
is  your  business,  sir  ?  "  You  reply,  "  I  wish  to  see  Mr. 
Stewart."  "  Mr.  Stewart  is  busy ;  what  do  you  want  ?  " 
"  I  wish  to  see  him  personally,  on  private  business." 
66  Mr.  Stewart  has  no  private  business.  You  cannot 
see  him  unless  you  tell  me  what  you  want."  If  the 
guard  is  satisfied,  you  are  allowed  to  go  up  stairs. 
Here  you  are  met  by  sentinel  No.  2,  —  a  large,  full-faced, 
bland-looking  gentleman,  —  who  is  Mr.  Stewart's  con- 
fidential agent,  though  at  one  time  one  of  the  judges 
of  our  courts.  He  examines  and  cross-examines  you. 
If  he  cannot  stave  you  off,  he  disappears  into  the 
office,  and  reports  your  case  to  his  chief.  Probably 
Mr.  Stewart  will  peer  at  you  through  the  plate  glass. 
If  he  does  not  consider  you  of  consequence  enough  to 


58  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

invite  you  in,  he  turns  away,  shrugging  his  shoulders, 
and  sends  a  snappish  refusal  by  the  guard.  If 
otherwise,  you  enter,  and  face  the  lion  in  his  den.  His 
whole  manner  is  hard  and  repulsive.  He  is  of  the  average 
height,  slim,  with  a  decided  Hibernian  face;  sandy  hair, 
nearly  red ;  sharp,  cold,  avaricious  features;  a  clear,  cold 
eye;  a  face  furrowed  with  thought,  care,  and  success;  a 
voice  harsh  and  unfriendly  in  its  most  mellow  tones. 
He  could  easily  be  taken  for  his  book-keeper  or  porter. 
He  meets  you  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  is  impatient 
from  interruption ;  who  wishes  you  to  say  your  say  and 
be  gone.  He  lives  wholly  by  himself.  His  wife  has 
borne  him  no  children ;  he  has  probably  not  a  bosom 
friend  in  the  world.  Some  men  find  their  pleasure  in 
dress,  in  dissipation,  in  drinking,  in  amusements,  in 
travel,  in  parties,  theatres,  operas.  Stewart  finds  his  in 
hard  work.  Business  is  his  idol,  his  pleasure,  his  profit. 
He  revels  in  it.  Approaching  his  eightieth  year,  he  is 
indomitable,  persevering,  and  enterprising  as  when  he 
commenced  trade. 

STEWART    AS    A    MASTER. 

He  is  a  hard  master,  and  his  store  is  ruled  by  des- 
potic law.  His  rules  are  inexorable,  and  must  be  obeyed. 
His  store  is  regarded  as  the  hospital  for  decayed 
merchants.  Nearly  every  prominent  man  in  his  whole- 
sale store  has  been  in  business  for  himself,  and  failed. 
All  the  better  for  Mr.  Stewart.  Such  a  man  has  a 
circle  of  acquaintances,  and  can  influence  trade.  If  he 
failed  without  dishonor,  he  is  sure  of  a  position  in  Mr. 
Stewart's  store.  No  factory  is  run  with  more  exactness. 
No  package  enters  or  leaves  the  store  without  a  ticket. 


IN   NEW  YORK.  69 

On  one  occasion  Mr.  Stewart  himself  left  directions  to 
have  a  shawl  sent  up  to  his  house,  which  Mrs.  Stewart 
was  to  wear  at  a  soiree.  He  forgot  to  place  a  ticket 
upon  the  package,  and  to  the  imperious  law  of  the  store 
the  shawl  had  to  yield.  He  regards  his  employees  as 
cogs  in  the  complicated  machinery  of  his  establishment. 
A  New  York  fireman  is  quite  as  tender  of  his  machine. 
The  men  are  numbered  and  timed.  There  is  a  penalty 
attached  to  all  delinquencies.  It  takes  all  a  man  can 
earn  for  the  first  month  or  so  to  pay  his  fines.  He  is 
fined  if  he  exceeds  the  few  minutes  allotted  to  dinner. 
He  is  fined  if  he  eats  on  the  premises.  He  is  fined  if 
he  sits  during  business  hours.  He  is  fined  if  he  comes 
late  or  goes  early.  He  is  fined  if  he  misdirects  a 
bundle.  He  is  fined  if  he  mistakes  a  street  or  number. 
He  is  fined  if  he  miscounts  the  money,  or  gives  the 
wrong  change. 

HIS     SHREWDNESS     AND     TACT. 

He  has  always  kept  in  advance  of  the  age.  During 
the  last  twenty  years  he  has  ruined  himself,  in  the 
estimation  of  his  friends,  a  hundred  times.  He  bought 
the  site  for  his  down-town  store  against  their  most 
earnest  expostulations.  It  was  too  far  up  town.  It  was 
on  the  shilling  side  of  Broadway.  No  man  could  do  a 
successful  business  there.  The  price  paict  was  exorbi- 
tant. The  proposed  mammoth  store  would  be  the 
laughing-stock  of  the  age,  and  would  be  known  as 
"  Stewart's  Folly."  As  usual,  he  relied  on  his  own 
judgment.  He  believed  the  investment  to  be  a  good 
one.  He  told  his  friends  that  it  would  be  the  centre 
of  trade ;  that  on  the  dollar  side  or  on  the  shilling  side 


60  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

of  the  street  he  intended  to  create  a  business  that 
would  compel  New  York  and  all  the  region  round  to 
trade  with  him.  He  is  not  a  liberal  man,  but  his  do- 
nations to  public  objects  are  princely.  Tax-gatherers, 
national,  state,  and  county,  say  that  no  man  pays  his 
assessments  more  fairly  or  more  cheerfully.  If  he  is 
hard,  he  is  just.  He  keeps  his  contracts,  pays  what  is 
nominated  in  the  bond,  and  no  more. 

HIS    HOME    ON   FIFTH    AVENUE. 

He  is  a  shrewd  buyer  of  real  estate.  He  has  pur- 
chased more  churches  than  any  man  in  the  city.  He 
buys  when  the  church  is  crippled,  and  gets  a  bargain 
both  in  price  and  location.  His  stable  on  Amity 
Street  was  for  many  years  the  celebrated  Baptist 
church  where  Dr.  Williams  officiated.  The  Dutch 
church  on  Ninth  Street  wanted  a  purchaser.  Several 
appeals  were  made  to  Mr.  Stewart.  He  had  bought 
odd  lots  in  that  neighborhood.  When  the  purchase  of 
the  church  was  complete,  it  was  found  that  he  had  the 
lease  of  the  entire  block,  and  on  it  his  mammoth  up-town 
store  now  stands.  Lafayette  Place,  once  a  fashionable 
locality,  was  occupied  by  saloons,  restaurants,  gambling- 
houses,  and  houses  for  boarding.  Governor  Morgan  had 
a  residence  there  which  he  wanted  to  get  rid  of. 
Stewart  took*  compassion  on  him,  and  bought  the  place. 
Persons  wondered  what  Stewart  wanted  of  that  great 
house,  in  that  out-of-the-way  spot.  Shortly  after,  Dr. 
Osgood's  church  was  for  sale,  on  Broadway.  After  it 
had  been  in  the  market  a  long  time,  Stewart  became 
the  purchaser.  It  was  found  that  the  church  lot  joined 


IN  NEW    YORK.  61 

*he  Lafayette  Place  lot,  making  a  magnificent  site, 
running  from  street  to  street,  for  a  huge  store. 

The  leading  desire  of  fashionable  New  York  is  to 
get  a  double  house  or  a  double  lot  on  Fifth  Avenue. 
Such  accommodations  are  rare,  and  fabulous  prices  are 
paid  for  land  or  dwelling.  On  the  corner  of  Fifth 
Avenue  and  Thirty-fourth  Street  stood  a  famous  house, 
occupying,  with  the  garden,  three  lots  of  land.  It  was 
built  by  a  successful  sarsaparilla  man.  It  was  the 
largest  in  New  York,  built  of  brown  stone,  as  gorgeous 
and  inconvenient  as  an  Eastern  pagoda.  It  cost  fabu- 
lous sums.  It  was  large  enough  for  a  hotel,  and  showy 
enough  for  a  prince.  It  was  burnished  with  gold  and 
silver,  and  elaborately  ornamented  with  costly  paint- 
ings. It  was  the  nine  days'  wonder  in  the  city,  and 
men  and  women  crowded  to  see  it  at  twenty-five  cents 
a  head.  The  owner  failed,  and  the  house  passed  out  of 
his  hands.  It  became  a  school,  with  no  success. 

One  morning  the  residents  of  the  avenue  were 
astonished  to  see  a  staging  built  up  against  this  famous 
pile,  reaching  to  the  roof.  They  were  more  astonished 
when  they  learned  that  this  gorgeous  pile  was  to  come 
down ;  that  its  foundations  were  to  be  dug  up  ;  that  a 
marble  palace  was  to  be  erected  on  that  site  that  would 
make  all  Shoddydom  red  with  envy ;  that  its  furniture, 
statuary,  paintings,  and  adornments  would  exceed  any 
house  on  the  continent.  Many  lessons  are  taught  by 
the  career  of  Mr.  Stewart.  It  is  worth  while,  on  a  fine 
morning,  to  pause  on  the  Broadway  pavement,  and 
watch  the  small  coupe  that  drives  up  to  the  curbstone, 
drawn  by  a  single  horse ;  to  mark  the  occupant,  as  with 


62  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

a  light  tread  and  buoyant  step  he  comes  from  the  car- 
riage and  enters  his  store.  He  is  an  old  man,  but  looks 
like  a  young  one.  He  began  life  penniless,  and  has 
rolled  up  a  fortune  greater  than  that  ever  before 
collected  by  any  one  man.  His  mercantile  career  has 
been  an  upward  one ;  his  whole  life  a  success.  He  has 
earned  the  title  he  wears.  He  is  the  autocrat  of  New 
York  merchants. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  63 


V. 
A    SHODDY    PARTY. 

ITS    BRILLIANT    OPENING.  —  ITS    FAILURE. 

ONE  of  the  citizens  of  New  York  was  a  hatter.  He 
earned  a  very  good  living  at  the  business.  His  wife 
made  vests  for  a  fashionable  tailor.  She  made  them 
well,  and  by  her  industry  added  very  much  to  the 
comfort  of  the  household.  By  one  of  those  sudden 
turns  of  fortune  which  overtake  men  in  this  city,  the 
man  found  himself  in  possession  of  quite  a  sum  of 
money.  He  abandoned  hatting,  and  his  wife  gave  up 
making  vests.  He  bought  a  house  in  an  up-town 
neighborhood.  His  wife  proposed  an  entree  into  good 
society  by  giving  a  large  party.  The  hatting  and  tailor- 
ing acquaintances  were  to  be  ignored.  They  had  no 
others.  A  new  order  of  associates  was  to  be  made 
through  the  part}7.  Had  these  people  understood  the 
way  of  doing  things  in  New  York,  they  would  have 
gone  to  Brown,  of  Grace  Church,  paid  him  a  handsome 
fee,  and  he  would  have  stocked  their  parlors  with  all 
the  company  desirable.  Instead  of  this,  they  took  the 
Directory,  selected  five  hundred  names,  among  whom 
were  some  of  the  most  prominent  of  our  citizens,  and 
sent  out  invitations,  right  and  left,  for  an  evening 
named.  No  expense  was  spared  to  make  the  occasion 
a  great  one.  The  house  was  gaudily  furnished.  The 


64  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

ladies  —  mother  and  daughter  —  were  expensively  and 
fashionably  attired.  The  table  was  laid  by  one  of  the 
first  caterers.  Dodsworth  was  engaged  for  the  music. 
Waiters  were  called  in,  dressed  in  the  clerical  garb  of 
black  and  white.  The  hour  came  on,  but  not  so  the 
guests.  No  excuses  came.  In  nothing  are  the  New 
Yorkers  more  skittish  than  about  the  acquaintances 
they  form  and  the  parties  they  attend.  They  will  give 
all  they  are  worth  for  a  ticket  to  a  ball,  party,  recep- 
tion, or  for  a  levee  where  great  folks  are  to  be,  but 
they  will  not  accept  miscellaneous  invitations,  though 
there  is  plenty  to  eat.  The  persons  who  got  up  this 
party  were  unknown.  Strings  of  young  men  drifted 
by  the  house  during  the  evening.  Brilliantly  lighted, 
it  attracted  general  attention.  But  the  bell  was  silent, 
and  the  steps  deserted.  The  curious  could  see  anxious 
persons  peering  through  the  cracks  of  the  blinds  at  the 
passers  by,  supposing  themselves  unobserved.  At  a 
late  hour  the  gas  was  turned  off.  During  the  whole 
evening  the  parlors  were  deserted,  the  splendid  table 
untouched,  and  the  family,  late  at  night,  turned  to  their 
couches,  with  feelings  better  imagined  than  described. 
The  candidates  for  fashionable  society  were  sadly 
disappointed. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  65 


VI. 

MRS.    BURDELL-CUNNINGHAM. 

MRS.    CUNNINGHAM   AS  A  HOUSEKEEPER.  —  AS  A   WIDOW. — HER   MARRIAGE.  — 
HER   DAUGHTERS. 

THE  noted  premises,  31  Bond  Street,  in  this  city, 
were  occupied  by  Dr.  Harvey  Burdell.  He  was  a 
dentist,  lived  in  good  style,  and  was  reputed  to  be  a 
man  of  wealth,  and  a  gentleman.  He  had  a  house- 
keeper in  the  person  of  Mrs.  Cunningham,  to  whose 
character  and  position  he  was  no  stranger.  He  had 
known  her  from  her  youth.  She  was  reputed  to  be 
clever,  and  to  have  talents.  She  was  poor,  with  no 
visible  means  of  support,  and  with  grown-up  daughters 
on  her  hands.  She  kept  house  for  Dr.  Burdell,  and 
entertained  such  company  as  she  chose  to  receive. 
She  lived  in  luxury,  and  passed  her  summers  among 
the  gay  and  fashionable  at  Newport  and  Saratoga. 
One  morning  the  murdered  form  of  Dr.  Burdell  was 
found  lying  upon  the  carpet  in  his  office,  weltering  in 
his  blood.  The  family  who  occupied  the  upper  part  of 
the  house  were  absent  Men  of  political  distinction  had 
rooms  over  Dr.  BurdelFs  apartments.  They  came  in 
at  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  and  all  was  still.  There  was 
no  noise  or  outcry ;  no  struggle  heard  during  the  night. 
All  eyes  turned  in  search  of  the  murderer.  The  public 
voice  cried  for  justice.  Every  ear  was  alive  to  the 
5 


66  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

slightest  suggestion,  every  foot  quick  to  chase  the  most 
improbable  rumor.  Men  and  women  were  put  on  trial 
for  their  lives.  Nothing  was  proved  against  them.  The 
perpetrator  of  the  bloody  deed  may  never  be  known 
till  he  stands  at  the  bar  of  God. 

MRS.    CUNNINIGHAM   AS    A   WIDOW. 

When  it  was  known  that  Dr.  Burdell  was  dead,  his 
housekeeper  proclaimed  herself  his  widow.  She  fell  on 
his  mangled  body,  and  shouted  out  her  grief  in  parox- 
ysms of  woe.  She  clothed  herself  in  deep  mourning, 
and  took  the  name  of  her  husband.  She  was  tried  for 
the  murder  of  Dr.  Burdell,  and  acquitted.  She  went  from 
the  Tombs  to  the  house  of  Dr.  Burdell,  and  repaired 
it  and  furnished  it  in  great  style.  She  went  before  the 
surrogate  with  her  claims  as  a  widow.  Had  he  decided 
the  case  on  the  evidence  before  him  he  must  have 
granted  her  suit.  While  the  matter  was  on  trial,  a  trap 
was  laid  for  her  by  the  district  attorney  and  others, 
into  which  she  fell.  All  hope  of  a  favorable  decision 
in  her  case  was  dashed  to  the  ground.  She  was  in- 
dicted by  the  grand  jury,  incarcerated  in  the  Tombs, 
bail  denied  her,  in  obedience  to  popular  clamor  and 
public  indignation,  although  the  crime  for  which  she 
was  indicted  was  clearly  a  bailable  one. 

HER   MARRIAGE. 

On  her  trial  before  the  surrogate,  the  confusion, 
want  of  self-possession,  and  contradictory  statements  of 
the  officiating  clergyman  left  the  surrogate  no  alter- 
native but  to  reject  his  testimony.  The  statement  of 
the  daughter  that  she  was  present  at  the  wedding, 


IN   NEW   YORK.  67 

availed  nothing.  Yet,  if  human  testimony  can  be  re- 
lied on,  and  any  marriage  can  be  proved,  it  is  very 
certain  that  Dr.  Burdell  was  married  to  Mrs.  Cunning- 
ham. The  officiating  clergyman  was  Rev.  Mr.  Marvin, 
then  settled  over  the  Bleecker  Street  Reformed  Dutch 
Church.  Outside  of  the  court-room  his  testimony  is 
clear,  consistent,  and  positive.  He  expresses  himself 
as  positive  that  he  married  the  parties  as  that  he  is 
married  himself.  The  circumstances  connected  with  the 
marriage  were  such  as  to  make  it  morally  impossible 
that  he  could  have  been  deceived.  Dr.  Burdell  visited 
Mr.  Marvin's  house  in  Hudson  Street,  one  pleasant 
afternoon,  and  made  arrangements  for  the  proposed 
marriage.  It  was  a  clear,  bright  da}',  and  the  sun  was 
shining  in  the  parlors.  Dr.  Burdell  stated  his  wishes, 
told  where  he  resided,  what  his  business  was,  what  his 
purposes  were,  and  informed  him  that  as  soon  as  his 
business  would  permit,  after  his  marriage,  he  intended 
to  travel  in  Europe.  He  made  quite  a  visit.  At  the 
appointed  time,  the  same  party,  accompanied  by  Mrs. 
Cunningham,  came  to  his  house,  and  was  married. 
One  of  the  daughters  accompanied  her  mother.  The 
marriage  was  not  hurried,  and  the  parties  remained 
some  time  in  conversation.  A  few  days  after  the  mar- 
riage, Dr.  Burdell  called  for  a  certificate.  He  remained 
some  time  in  easy  general  conversation.  He  examined 
the  certificate  carefully,  and  pointed  out  some  errors  in 
it,  which  were  corrected.  He  leisurely  departed,  carry- 
ing the  certificate  with  him.  The  same  person  who 
made  the  arrangement  for  the  marriage,  and  was  mar- 
ried at  the  time  agreed  upon,  and  who  subsequently 
called  for  the  certificate  and  carried  it  away,  was  known 


68  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

to  be  the  very  person  who  was  murdered  in  Bond 
Street,  and  who  was  carried  to  his  burial  as  Dr.  Harvey 
Burdell.  Just  before  the  marriage  testified  to  by  Mr, 
Marvin,  Dr.  Burdell  visited  Saratoga  with  Mrs.  Cunning- 
ham, and  took  rooms  at  Congress  Hall.  A  daughter 
of  Mrs.  Cunningham  was  at  the  Seminary  kept  by  Rev. 
Dr.  Beecher.  The  next  morning  after  the  arrival,  Dr. 
Burdell  and  Mrs.  Cunningham  visited  the  Seminary,  and 
had  an  interview  with  Dr.  Beecher.  Up  to  this  time 
Dr.  Burdell  had  paid  the  board  and  tuition  bills  of  the 
young  lady.  He  now  stated  to  Dr.  Beecher  that  he 
had  come  up  to  make  arrangements  for  the  expenses 
of  the  young  lady  during  his  absence  from  the  country, 
as  he  expected  soon  to  sail  for  Europe.  He  made 
arrangements  for  Dr.  Beecher  to  draw  on  New  York  for 
the  monthly  and  quarterly  payments  as  they  should 
become  due.  He  stated  that  his  absence  from  the 
country  would  make  no  difference  with  the  regular 
payment  of  the  bills.  Mrs.  Cunningham  was  in  the 
room  while  these  arrangements  were  being  made. 
Turning  towards  Mrs.  Cunningham,  Dr.  Beecher  jocose- 
ly said,  "  I  presume  you  do  not  intend  to  go  to  Europe 
alone."  Dr.  Burdell  replied  by  a  loud  laugh,  a  shrug- 
ging of  the  shoulders,  and  other  indications,  that  he 
intended  to  take  the  lady  with  him.  Mrs.  Cunningham 
was  silent,  but  smiled,  and  blushed  an  assent.  These 
facts  did  not  come  out  on  the  trial. 

HER   DAUGHTERS. 

While  in  prison,  Mrs.  Cunningham  was  confined  in 
a  small,  narrow  cell,  which  was  full  of  bugs,  fleas,  and 
vermin,  and  which  was  lighted  by  a  hole  in  the  wall 


IN   NEW   YORK.  69 

for  a  window.  Three  persons  could  scarcely  remain  in 
the  cell  at  one  time.  She  seemed  to  be  about  forty 
years  of  age ;  stout,  but  well  formed,  very  tasty  in  her 
dress,  hair  raven  black,  eyes  sharp  and  sparkling,  hand- 
some features,  complexion  pale,  and  her  whole  contour 
attractive  and  handsome.  Crowded  into  this  narrow 
cell  were  her  two  daughters.  Their  devotion  to  their 
mother  was  remarkable.  They  shut  themselves  out 
from  society,  and  passed  every  day  in  the  close  and 
heated  cell.  In  prison  and  out  they  worked  for  their 
own  and  their  mother's  support.  Handsome,  and  pol- 
ished in  their  manners,  every  one  spoke  well  of  them 
for  their  quiet  and  modest  deportment.  The  jailer 
never  flung  open  the  gates  of  the  prison  so  early  in  the 
morning  that  he  did  not  find  these  daughters  outside 
waiting  for  admission.  When  the  iron  doors  closed  on 
their  mother  at  night,  the  officers  had  to  use  force  to 
put  them  on  the  pavement,  over  which  they  trod  to 
find  some  friendly  shelter  for  the  night,  only  to  return 
at  early  dawn  and  renew  their  toil  in  the  society  of 
their  mother.  There  are  millionnaires  in  New  York 
who  would  give  half  their  fortune  to  receive  from  their 
children  such  assurances  of  filial  affection. 


70         SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


VII. 

SHARP  BUSINESS,  AND  ITS  VALUE. 

TWO  KINDS  OF  BUSINESS.  —  TWO  MACADAMIZED  ROADS.  — CASES  IN  POINT.  — 
A  HARD  CREDITOR.  —  A  SHARP  MERCHANT.  —  TWO  SHARPERS.  —  MATRI- 
MONIAL SHARPNESS. 

THERE  are  two  kinds  of  business  men,  and  two  kinds 
of  business,  in  this  city.  The  old-school  merchants  of 
New  York  are  few.  Their  ranks  are  thinning  every 
day.  They  were  distinguished  for  probity  and  honor. 
They  took  time  to  make  a  fortune.  Their  success 
proved  that  business  integrity  and  mercantile  honesty 
were  a  good  capital.  Their  colossal  fortunes  and 
enduring  fame  prove  that  to  be  successful  men  need 
not  be  mean,  false,  or  dishonest.  Astor,  Cooper,  Dodge, 
Stewart,  Stuart  Brothers,  the  Phelpses,  in  business,  are 
representatives  of  the  same  class.  When  John  Jacob 
Astor  was  a  leading  merchant  in  New  York,  he  was 
one  of  the  few  merchants  who  could  buy  goods  by  the 
cargo.  A  large  dealer  in  teas  knowing  that  few  mer- 
chants could  outbid  him,  or  purchase  a  cargo,  concluded 
to  buy  a  whole  ship-load  that  had  just  arrived  and  was 
offered  at  auction.  He  had  nobody  to  compete  with, 
and  he  expected  to  have  everything  his  own  way. 
Just  before  the  sale  commenced,  to  his  consternation 
he  saw  Mr.  Astor  walking  leisurely  down  the  wharf. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  71 

He  went  to  meet  him,  and  said,  u  Mr.  Astor,  I  am 
sorry  to  see  you  here  this  morning.  If  you  will  go  to 
your  counting-room,  and  stay  till  after  the  sale,  I'll  give 
you  a  thousand  dollars."  Without  thinking  much  about 
it,  Mr.  Astor  consented,  turned  on  his  heel,  and  said, 
"  Send  round  the  check."  He  found  that  he  had  made 
one  thousand  dollars,  and  probably  had  lost  ten  thousand 
dollars.  But  he  kept  his  word,  and  that  is  the  way  he 
did  his  business. 

The  lease  of  the  Astor  House  ran  out  some  time 
since.  Just  before  it  expired  some  parties  from  Boston 
tried  to  hire  the  Astor  House  on  the  sly,  over  the  heads 
of  the  Stetsons.  In  a  private  interview  with  Mr.  Astor, 
they  wanted  to  know  his  terms.  He  replied,  "  I  will 
consult  Mr.  Stetson,  and  let  you  know.  I  always  give 
my  old  tenants  the  preference."  To  consult  Mr.  Stet- 
son was  to  defeat  the  object  they  had  in  view,  and  they 
pressed  it  no  farther.  No  one  asks  a  guarantee  of  an 
old  New  York  merchant  that  he  will  not  cheat  in  the 
commodity  which  he  sells. 

TWO   MACADAMIZED    ROADS. 

The  path  to  success  is  plain.  It  can  hardly  be 
missed.  Yet  success  is  the  exception.  The  road  to 
commercial  ruin  is  as  broad  and  well  known  as  Broad- 
way, yet  it  is  crowded.  Some  men  always  get  along. 
Throw  them  up  anywhere  and  they  will  come  down  on 
their  feet.  Thus  continued  prosperity  follows  a  well- 
known  law.  One  of  the  best  known  presidents  of  one 
of  our  banks  began  his  career  by  blacking  boots.  He 
came  to  New  York  a  penniless  lad,  and  sought  employ- 
ment at  a  store.  "  What  can  you  do  ?  "  said  the  mer- 


72  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

chant.  "  I  can  do  anything,"  said  the  boy.  "  Take 
these  boots  and  black  them,  then."  He  did  so,  and  he 
blacked  them  well ;  and  he  did  everything  else  well. 
Quite  a  young  man  has  been  promoted  to  be  cashier 
over  one  of  our  leading  banks,  and  that  over  older 
men.  His  associates  dined  at  Delmonico's.  He  ate  a 
frugal  dinner  daily  in  one  of  the  rooms  of  the  bank. 
Industry,  integrity  and  pluck  are  at  a  premium  in  New 
York.  Men  envy  Stewart's  success  who  never  think 
of  imitating  his  toil,  or  his  business  integrity.  Mr. 
Claflin,  the  rival  of  Stewart,  works  more  hours  a  day 
than  he  requires  any  employee  to  do.  Till  quite 
recently  he  made  his  own  deposits  in  the  bank.  Yet 
defalcations  are  many.  Cases  of  embezzlement  abound. 
Revelations  of  fraud  are  daily  and  startling.  Men  of 
high  standing  are  thrown  down,  and  desolation  carried 
to  their  homes.  Dishonesty,  rash  speculations,  stock 
gambling,  expensive  horses,  with  women,  wine,  fast  and 
high  living,  tell  the  story.  Most  of  our  large  houses 
and  enterprising  merchants  and  rich  men  have  at  one 
time  or  another  gone  under.  Many  such  have  taken 
off  their  coats,  rolled  up  their  sleeves,  and  gone  at  it 
again,  seldom  without  success.  Many  have  given  up 
hope,  and  taken  to  the  bottle.  New  York  is  full  of 
wrecks  of  men,  who,  because  they  could  not  pay  their 
notes,  have  flung  away  character,  talent  and  all. 

CASES    IN   POINT. 

In  one  of  the  tenement-houses  in  this  city,  a  benev- 
olent lady,  searching  for  a  poor  family,  found  a  woman, 
who,  two  years  before,  was  a  leading  belle  at  one  of  the 
fashionable  watering-places.  She  had  been  lost  sight 


IN  NEW  YORK.  73 

of  for  a  year  by  her  fashionable  acquaintances.  She 
did  not  appear  in  her  accustomed  haunts.  When  found, 
she  occupied  rooms  in  a  crowded  tenement-house  in 
the  lower  part  of  New  York.  Her  story  was  the  old 
one  -^—  business  reverses,  the  bottle,  poverty  and  want, 
like  armed  men.  On  the  floor  of  the  room,  rolled  up 
in  rags,  in  a  corner,  lay  her  husband,  a  degraded  sot. 
Two  years  before  he  was  a  bright  and  successful 
merchant. 

A   HARD    CREDITOR. 

In  one  of  the  small  streets  of  lower  New  York,  where 
men  who  are  "  hard  up  "  congregate,  where  those  who 
do  brokerage  in  a  small  way  have  a  business  location,  a 
name  can  be  read  on  a  small  tin  sign,  that  is  eminently 
suggestive.  The  man  who  has  desk-room  in  that 
locality  I  have  known  as  a  leading  merchant  in  New 
York.  His  house  was  extensive,  his  business  large. 
He  was  talked  of  as  the  rival  of  Stewart.  No  store  in 
New  York  was  more  celebrated.  He  was  sharp  at  a 
trade,  and  successful.  He  was  a  hard  creditor,  and  un- 
relenting. He  asked  no  favors,  and  granted  none.  It 
was  useless  for  a  debtor  to  appeal  to  him.  "  Settle, 
sir ! "  he  would  say,  in  a  sharp,  hard  manner,  "  settle, 
sir!  How  will  I  settle?  I  will  settle  for  a  hundred 
cents  on  the  dollar,  sir."  Nothing  could  induce  him  to 
take  his  iron  grasp  off  of  an  unfortunate  trader.  Over 
his  desk  was  a  sign,  on  which  was  painted  in  large 
letters,  "  No  Compromise."  He  answered  all  appeals 
by  pointing  to  the  ominous  words,  with  his  long,  bony 
fingers.  His  turn  came.  He  went  under  —  deep.  All 
New  York  was  glad. 


74  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 


A   SHARP  MERCHANT. 

In  travelling,  I  passed  the  night  with  a  wealthy  mer- 
chant. His  name  on  'change  was  a  tower  of  strength. 
He  had  made  his  fortune,  and  was  proud  of  it.  He  said 
he  could  retire  from  business  if  he  would,  have  a  for- 
tune for  himself  to  spend,  and  settle  one  on  his  wife 
and  children.  He  was  very  successful,  but  very  severe. 
He  was  accounted  one  of  the  shrewdest  merchants  in 
the  city.  But  he  had  no  tenderness  towards  debtors. 
In  the  day  of  his  prosperity  he  was  celebrated  for 
demanding  the  full  tale  of  brick,  and  the  full  pound  of 
flesh.  A  few  months  after  I  passed  the  night  with  him 
he  became  bankrupt.  His  wealth  fled  in  a  day.  He 
had  failed  to  settle  the  fortune  on  his  wife  and  children, 
and  they  were  penniless.  He  was  treated  harshly,  and 
was  summarily  ejected  from  the  institutions  over  which 
he  presided.  He  complained  bitterly  of  the  ingratitude 
of  men  who  almost  got  down  on  their  knees  to  ask 
favors  of  him  when  he  was  prosperous,  and  who  spurned 
and  reviled  him  when  he  fell.  If  in  the  day  of  his 
prosperity  he  had  been  kinder  and  less  exacting,  he 
might  have  found  friends  in  the  day  of  his  adversity. 

TWO    SHARPERS. 

A  noted  sportsman,  taking  dinner  at  one  of  our  clubs, 
exhibited  a  diamond  ring  of  great  beauty  and  apparent 
value  on  his  finger.  A  gentleman  present  had  a  great 
passion  for  diamonds.  After  dinner,  the  parties  met  in 
the  office.  After  much  bantering,  the  owner  consented 
to  barter  the  ring  for  the  sum  of  six  hundred  dollars. 
As  the  buyer  left  the  room,  a  suppressed  tittering 


IN  NEW   YORK.  75 

struck  his  ear.  He  concluded  that  the  former  owner 
had  sold  both  the  ring  and  the  purchaser.  He  said 
nothing,  but  called  the  next  day  upon  a  jeweller, 
where  he  learned  that  the  diamond  was  paste,  and  the 
ring  worth  about  twenty-five  dollars.  He  examined 
some  real  diamonds,  and  found  one  closely  resembling 
the  paste  in  his  own  ring.  He  hired  the  diamond  for  a 
few  days,  pledged  twelve  hundred  dollars,  the  price  of 
it,  and  gave  a  hundred  dollars  for  its  use.  He  went  to 
another  jeweller,  had  the  paste  removed,  and  the  real 
diamond  set.  His  chums,  knowing  how  he  had  been 
imposed  upon,  impatiently  waited  for  his  appearance 
the  next  night.  To  their  astonishment  they  found 
him  in  high  glee.  He  flourished  his  ring,  boasted  of 
his  bargain,  and  said  if  any  gentleman  present  had  a 
twelve  hundred  dollar  ring  to  sell  for  six  hundred  dol- 
lars, he  knew  of  a  purchaser.  When  he  was  told  that 
the  ring  was  paste,  and  that  he  had  been  cheated,  he 
laughed  at  their  folly.  Bets  were  freely  offered  that 
the  ring  did  not  contain  a  real  diamond.  Two  men  bet 
a  thousand  dollars  each.  Two  bet  five  hundred  dollars. 
All  were  taken  :  umpires  were  chosen.  The  money  and 
the  ring  were  put  into  their  hands.  They  went  to  a 
first-class  jeweller,  who  applied  all  the  tests,  and  who 
said  the  stone  was  a  diamond  of  the  first  water,  and 
was  worth,  without  the  setting,  twelve  hundred  dollars. 
The  buyer  put  the  three  thousand  dollars  which  he  had 
won  quietly  in  his  pocket.  He  carried  the  diamond 
back  and  recalled  his  twelve  hundred  dollars,  and  with 
his  paste  ring  on  his  finger  went  to  his  club.  The 
man  who  sold  the  ring  was  waiting  for  him.  He 
wanted  to  get  the  ring  back.  He  attempted  to  turn 


76  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  whole  thing  into  a  joke.  He  sold  the  ring,  he  said, 
for  fan.  He  knew  that  it  was  a  real  diamond  all  the 
time.  He  never  wore  false  jewels.  He  could  tell  a 
real  diamond  anywhere  by  its  peculiar  light.  He 
would  not  be  so  mean  as  to  cheat  an  old  friend.  He 
knew  his  friend  would  let  him  have  the  ring  again. 
But  his  friend  was  stubborn  —  said  that  the  seller 
thought  that  it  was  paste,  and  intended  to  defraud  him. 
At  length,  on  the  payment  of  eight  hundred  dollars,  the 
ring  was  restored.  All  parties  came  to  the  conclusion, 
when  the  whole  affair  came  out,  that  when  diamond 
cuts  diamond  again  some  one  less  sharp  will  be  selected. 

MATRIMONIAL    SHARPNESS. 

New  York  merchants  frequently  sell  their  daughters 
as  well  as  their  goods.  It  is  quite  a  common  thing  to 
put  respectability  and  standing  against  money.  One 
of  our  most  unscrupulous  politicians  became  rich,  as 
such  men  do  sometimes.  He  wanted  respectability  and 
social  position.  He  proposed  to  attain  them  through  a 
reputable  marriage.  He  proposed  for  the  hand  of  one 
of  the  fair  damsels  of  Gotham.  His  political  position 
was  high,  his  future  prospects  dazzling.  The  lady's 
father,  with  mercantile  frankness,  offered  the  hand  of 
his  daughter,  on  condition  that  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars  were  settled  upon  her,  secured  by  real  estate. 
The  proposal  was  accepted,  and  the  wedding  prepara- 
tions went  on.  An  elegant  house,  in  an  aristocratic 
locality,  was  purchased.  It  was  fitted  up  in  great  style. 
The  young  lady  was  congratulated  on  her  fine  pros- 
pects. More  than  once,  as  the  time  drew  near  for  the 
marriage,  the  father  hinted  that  the  little  preliminary 


IN  NEW  YORK.  77 

transaction  should  be  attended  to.  "  0,  yes!  0,  yes  ! 
Certainly,  certainly,"  the  bland  politician .  would  say. 
His  brother  was  absent ;  the  papers  were  not  complete  ; 
but  it  would  be  all  ready  before  the  marriage.  It  was 
not  till  the  afternoon  of  the  wedding  that  the  papers, 
in  due  form,  were  laid  before  the  gratified  father.  The 
wedding  came  off  in  great  style.  Marriage  in  high  life 
greeted  the  eye  in  all  the  papers.  A  subsequent  ex- 
amination showed  that  the  property  conveyed  to  the 
bride  was  covered  with  a  mortgage  of  ninety-five  thou- 
sand dollars.  It  bore  date  of  the  same  day  of  the  set- 
tlement, but  was  prior  to  it,  and  duly  recorded  before 
the  settlement  was  made.  The  mortgage  conveyed 
the  property  to  a  near  and  sharp  relative  of  the  bride- 
groom. On  the  return  from  the  bridal  trip,  the  party 
receiving  the  mortgage  refused  to  deliver  it  up  to  the 
bridegroom,  alleging  that  the  mortgage  was  genuine, 
and  that  for  it  he  had  paid  a  legal  consideration. 
Whether  New  York  will  be  electrified  with  a  lawsuit 
between  the  parties  remains  to  be  seen. 


78  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


VIII. 

A  NIGHT   ON  THE   BATTERY. 

THE    BATTERY   AS     IT   WAS. — A     SUICIDE.  —  A   DARK    STORY. — THE    TEMPTA- 
TION. —  A   RESCUE.  —  FORCED    LOANS.  TRAFFIC    IN    FLESH    AND    BLOOD. 

MADDENING    EXTORTIONS. 

THE    BATTERY    AS    IT    WAS. 

FORMERLY  the  Battery  was  the  pride  of  New  York. 
It  was  never  large,  but  it  was  a  spot  of  great  beauty. 
It  opened  on  to  our  splendid  bay.  A  granite  promenade 
ran  by  the  water-side.  It  was  traversed  by  paths  in  all 
directions.  Trees,  the  growth  of  centuries,  afforded  a 
fine  shade.  A  sea  breeze  came  from  the  ocean,  with 
health  on  its  wings.  Castle  Garden  was  the  resort  of 
the  fashionable  and  gay.  The  wealthy  citizens  of  New 
York  and  vicinity  filled  the  Battery  every  pleasant  after- 
noon. On  every  side  were  costly  houses,  the  residences 
of  the  wealthy  merchants.  But  now  all  is  changed ! 
Trade  has  driven  families  up  town.  Castle  Garden  is 
an  emigrant  depot.  The  grass  has  disappeared,  the  iron 
fence  is  broken,  the  wall  promenade  near  the  sea  gone 
to  decay,  freshly-arrived  foreigners,  ragged,  tattered, 
and  drunken  men  and  women  sit  under  the  old  trees, 
and  the  Battery  is  now  as  unsafe  a  place  at  night  as 
can  be  found  in  the  city. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  79 

A  SUICIDE. 

One  night  an  officer,  in  citizen's  clothes,  was  walking 
on  the  Battery.  His  attention  was  directed  to  a  man 
walking  back  and  forth  on  the  old  sea  wall.  His  ap- 
pearance indicated  great  sorrow  and  desperation.  The 
officer  thought  he  intended  suicide.  Pie  went  up  to 
the  man,  touched  him  lightly  on  the  shoulder,  and  in  a 
kind  tone  said,  "  Not  to-night ;  not  now.  The  water  is 
cold.  You  must  not  leave  your  wife  and  children. 
Don't  take  that  great  leap  in  the  dark.  Don't  do  it 
to-night."  Aroused  as  from  a  reverie,  in  angry  tones 
the  man  demanded  of  the  officer,  "Who  are  you?"  In 
an  instant  they  recognized  each  other.  The  suicide 
exclaimed,  "  Good  God !  is  it  you  ?  How  came  you 
here  ?  How  did  you  know  what  I  intended  to  do  ?  Let 
us  go  and  sit  down.  You  shall  know  why  I  propose 
to  throw  away  a  life  that  is  not  worth  keeping.  I  am 
daily  in  hell.  I  can  endure  my  tortures  no  longer.  I 
determined  to-night  to  seek  rest  beneath  the  quiet  wa- 
ters. You  shall  hear  iny  tale,  and  judge  for  yourself." 

A  DARK    STORY. 

Seated  on  a  bench  by  the  side  of  the  officer,  the 
young  man  told  his  griefs.  He  said,  "  I  came  from  my 
mountain  home  in  New  England,  to  seek  my  fortune  in 
this  city.  My  mother's  prayers  and  blessing  followed 
me.  I  resolved  to  do  no  dishonor  to  those  who  loved 
me  and  looked  for  my  success.  I  entered  a  large  mer- 
cantile store,  and  for  a  time  did  the  menial  work.  I 
was  industrious  and  ambitious,  and  resolved  to  rise.  I 
did  cheerfully  and  faithfully  what  was  allotted  to  me. 
My  advance  was  slow  at  first.  I  gained  the  confidence 


80  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

of  my  employers,  and  have  risen  to  the  position  of  con- 
fidential clerk.  I  married  a  noble-hearted  girl,  whom  I 
love  better  than  life,  and  for  a  time  all  things  went  well 
with  me. 

"One  day,  while  at  the  store,  I  received  a  letter, 
written  in  a  fine,  delicate  hand,  asking  for  a  loan  of 
money  for  a  short  time.  The  writer  regretted  that 
necessity  which  made  it  needful  for  her  to  ask  for  the 
loan ;  but  she  was  greatly  reduced,  had  money  to  pay, 
and  could  not  escape  from  her  present  difficulty,  unless 
her  friends  (underscoring  the  word  friends)  would  loan 
her  a  small  sum,  say  fifty  dollars,  for  a  short  time.  The 
letter  was  signed  by  a  name  unknown  to  me.  The  letter 
hinted  at  some  indiscretions  of  mine,  and  threatened 
an  exposure  unless  the  money  was  forthcoming.  On 
inquiry,  I  found  the  woman  to  be  one  of  those  cold- 
blooded and  heartless  wretches  that  abound  in  New 
York,  who  live  on  black  mail.  She  was  a  notorious 
woman,  and  passed  sometimes  under  one  name  and 
sometimes  under  another.  I  had  seen. her  once,  in 
company  with  some  associates,  but  that  was  many  years 
ago.  She  kept  a  list  of  all  her  acquaintances,  even  of 
those  who  were  casually  introduced.  My  name  is  on 
that  list.  Since  the  fatal  hour  I  saw  her,  her  eye  has 
never  been  off  from  me.  She  could  afford  to  wait.  She 
has  watched  my  rise,  and  when  I  dare  not  refuse,  has 
made  a  levy  on  me,  under  the  specious  pretext  of 
a  loan. 

THE  TEMPTATION. 

"  My  true  course  would  have  been  to  have  taken  the 
letter  to  my  employer,  stated  all  the  circumstances,  and 
followed  his  advice.  I  should  have  taken  the  letter  to 


IN  NEW   YORK.  81 

my  wife,  and  then  bade  the  vile  creature  do  her  worst ; 
or  I  should  have  seen  you,  placed  the  case  in  your 
hands,  and  ended  the  infamous  career  of  this  woman, 
at  least  for  a  time.  I  had  not  courage  to  do  either. 
I  was  afraid  of  the  exposure.  Fifty  dollars  was  a  small 
sum,  and  if  I  could  buy  her  silence  for  that,  it  would 
be  cheaply  bought.  I  sent  the  money,  and  bade  the 
woman  trouble  me  no  more.  With  the  money  I  was 
fool  enough  to  send  a  letter.  Armed  with  this  evidence 
that  I  had  complied  with  her  demand,  another  loan  was 
requested  of  a  hundred  dollars.  For  two  years  the 
leech  has  drawn  upon  me,  keeping  pace  with  my  sup- 
posed business  success.  I  have  paid  over  two  thou- 
sand dollars,  and  received  yesterday  a  new  call.  I  have 
taken  money  from  my  employers.  My  accounts  are  not 
correct.  I  expect  every  day  that  an  exposure  will 
take  place.  I  cannot  witness  the  shame  and  agony-  of 
my  family." 

A  RESCUE. 

The  officer  led  the  young  man  to  the  police  station. 
A  note  was  dictated,  and  sent  to  the  address  of  the 
woman,  inviting  her  to  an  interview  at  a  place  named, 
where  the  business  would  be  completed  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  all  parties.  Prompt  on  the  time  the  woman 
made  her  appearance.  She  was  attended  by  a  "  friend," 
a  noted  pugilist  of  the  city,  burly,  brazen,  and  strong, 
able  to  pummel  the  young  clerk  to  a  jelly  if  he  resisted 
the  demands  made  upon  him.  Out  of  sight,  but  with- 
in hearing,  were  two  officers.  The  whole  matter  was 
talked  over,  the  past  and  the  future.  The  whole  story 
was  given,  confirming  that  told  to  the  officer  on  the  Bat- 
tery. The  bargain  was  made,  that  if  the  young  man 
6 


82  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

would  pay  one  thousand  dollars  in  instalments  lie  should 
be  troubled  no  more.  At  the  right  moment  the  officers 
appeared  and  arrested  the  parties.  Rather  than  go  to 
the  Tombs,  the  friend  agreed  to  refund  all  the  money 
that  had  been  extorted  from  the  clerk,  signed  a  paper 
acknowledging  all  the  facts  in  the  case,  and  agreed  to 
quit  the  city,  which  was  done. 

FORCED    LOANS. 

Women  and  men,  in  New  York,  live  in  style  by  loans 
forced  from  business  men  in  the  city.  Young  men  who 
want  to  see  New  York  life  while  they  are  young,  and 
who  think  it  is  a  very  fine  thing  to  sow  their  wild  oats 
in  early  life,  little  know  what  a  harvest  they  are  to 
reap.  On  one  of  the  very  fashionable  avenues  in  the 
city  there  stands  the  most  fashionable  and  costly  house 
of  infamy  on  the  continent,  which  was  built  and  fur- 
nished by  loans  exacted  from  business  men.  It  is  a 
palace,  unequalled  except  by  the  marble  house  of 
Stewart,  and  is  adorned  by  statuary,  paintings,  and  all 
that  art  and  taste  can  suggest  or  money  purchase. 
The  proprietor  of  the 'mansion  is  one  of  the  most  noto- 
rious and  infamous  of  women.  She  began  life  on  the 
lowest  round  of  the  ladder.  Soon  she  set  up  for  a 
nurse.  She  opened  a  house  for  the  reception  of  women 
who  were  about  to  become  mothers  before  they  were 
wives.  Her  next  step  was  that  of  a  female  physician, 
whose  practice  was  among  the  most  debased  and  de- 
graded. She  had  practice  in  Boston,  Philadelphia,  and 
the  South.  She  was  often  before  the  court  on  criminal 
charges.  She  was  never  convicted,  though  her  hands 
were  often  stained  with  the  blood  of  her  victims.  As 


IN  NEW  YORK.  83 

she  rose  in  wealth,  she  opened  a  home  for  the  un- 
fortunate. In  it,  the  sick  that  could  pay  had  the  most 
tender  and  delicate  nursing.  A  young,  sensitive,  and 
intelligent  girl,  who  had  been  enticed  from  home,  found 
a  kind  and  considerate  friend  in  the  hostess.  It  paid 
well  to  have  this  repute ;  and  when  such  an  one  was 
introduced  by  a  man  of  substance  or  standing,  the  kind 
attention  was  doubled.  Elegant  rooms,  costly  furniture, 
delicacies  of  all  kinds,  quiet,  well-dressed  and  obsequi- 
ous attendants  waited  the  call  of  the  invalid.  No  moth- 
er could  watch  the  delicate  and  sobbing  girl  with  more 
care  than  this  vile  woman.  When  rooms  were  engaged, 
they  were  taken  by  some  person  without  a  name.  As 
they  were  paid  for  the  term  of  confinement  in  advance, 
it  would  make  no  difference  to  the  keeper  of  the  house 
who  made  the  arrangements.  Why  should  she  care,  so 
long  as  her  pay  is  sure  ?  But  there  is  a  future  for  her ; 
and  the  party  who  comes  in  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
without  a  name,  to  engage  rooms,  will  know  that 
future  to  his  cost. 

TRAFFIC    IN   FLESH   AND    BLOOD. 

Heavy  as  is  the  sum  paid  to  this  woman  for  the 
present  care  of  the  patient,  the  future  is  richer  in  gain. 
It  is  not  the  policy  of  these  women  to  harm  mother  or 
child ;  avarice  demands  that  the  child  live.  In  the 
hour  of  deep  anguish  and  trial,  all  alone  in  a  strange 
room,  with  the  visions  of  home  looming  up,  with  shame 
and  remorse  burning  their  impress  on  the  alabaster 
brow,  with  the  prospect  of  death  before  her,  the  be- 
wildered child  repays  the  tender  care  by  becoming 
confidential.  She  names  the  party  to  whom  her  ruin 


84  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

is  ascribed,  and  bids  the  woman  take  care  of  the  little 
comer  should  the  young  mother  die.  All  the  facts  in 
the  case  gleaned  from  this  death-pillow  are  carefully 
noted  in  a  book  kept  for  that  purpose,  with  the  names 
of  the  parties,  their  residence,  place  of  business,  and  all 
needed  particulars.  The  child  is  carefully  protected. 
It  is  a  living  witness,  and  will  be  a  source  of  great 
profit  wThen  the  day  of  reckoning  comes.  The  party 
who  takes  the  child  is  interested  in  the  establishment. 
When  loans  are  called  for,  it  can  be  produced  and 
identified  at  any  moment. 

MADDENING    EXTORTIONS. 

Cured  and  discharged,  the  patient  returns  to  society, 
marries,  and  settles  down  in  life.  The  man  pursues 
his  business  career  with  success.  He  becomes  honored 
among  merchants.  His  name  stands  high  on  'change. 
He  has  a  high  social  position.  He  becomes  an  officer 
in  some  one  of  our  benevolent,  philanthropic,  or  re- 
ligious institutions.  If  he  thinks  of  his  early  indiscre- 
tions, he  is  glad  to  know  that  the  great  secret  is  locked 
in  his  own  bosom.  All  this  while  his  name  is  written 
in  a  book.  There  is  one  human  eye  that  knows  his 
down-sitting  and  his  up-rising.  With  a  hundred  other 
names  his  can  be  read  in  the  fatal  list.  He  is  at  the 
mercy  of  one  of  the  shrewdest,  most  abandoned,  and 
desperate  of  women.  She  knows  the  mercantile  value 
of  every  name  on  that  list  whom  she  has  served ; 
knows  their  domestic,  social,  and  commercial  standing. 
Each  one  is  her  banker.  She  draws  when  she  will.  A 
man  of  business  is  surprised  on  receiving  a  call  from  a 
lady,  who  comes  in  her  carriage  on  pressing  business. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  85 

Has  he  forgotten  the  person  he  met  in  a  small,  half- 
lighted  room,  with  whom  he  transacted  some  business 
some  months  or  years  before  ?  Or  a  polite  note  is 
received,  signed  by  the  woman,  inviting  him  to  an  in- 
terview on  urgent  business ;  or,  in  polite  terms,  a  loan 
is  requested  of  a  certain  sum  for  a  short  time.  Aston- 
ished and  in  terror,  the  demand  is  acceded  to,  only  to 
be  repeated  with  increased  amount  every  year.  Bank- 
ruptcy has  followed  this  system  of  extortion.  Men  have 
fled  their  country,  and  gone  into  strange  lands.  Men 
have  sought  relief  in  suicide,  rather  than  be  disgraced. 
Not  long  since,  an  honored  man,  who  had  been  elevated 
to  the  highest  trusts  our  city  oan  confer,  sunk  beneath 
the  tyranny  of  extortion;  his  brain  softened,  and  he 
passed  prematurely  away.  Few  have  the  least  idea  of 
the  extent  of  this  business,  or  of  the  number  and  stand- 
ing of  the  parties  implicated.  Elegant  mansions  are 
builded  and  maintained ;  splendid  teams  and  gilded 
equipages  roll  through  Central  Park ;  liveried  servants 
excite  the  envy  of  those  less  exalted; — all  which  are 
supported  by  tributes  wrung  from  persons  who  have 
a  fair  outside  social  standing.  Could  the  roll  be  read, 
and  the  names  pronounced,  New  York  would  be 
astonished,  alarmed  and  convulsed,  —  hollow  deceitful 
and  wicked  as  the  city  is. 


86  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


IX 


HENRY    WARD    BEECHER    AND    PLYM- 
OUTH   CHURCH. 

ORIGIN  OF  THE  CHURCH.  —  PLYMOUTH  CHURCH  ON  SUNDAY  MORNING.  —  TEN- 
MINUTE  RULE. — MR.  BEECHER  IN  THE  PULPIT. — PECULIARITIES  OF  THE 
CHURCH.  —  HOW  MR.  BEECHER  MANAGES  IT.  —  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  PLYM- 
OUTH CHURCH.  —  MR.  BEECHER  IN  THE  LECTURE-ROOM.  HIS  CONVER- 
SION. —  PERSONAL.  —  AS  A  PASTOR. 

ORIGIN    OF   THE    CHURCH. 

ON  Saturday  evening,  May  8, 1847,  a  few  gentlemen 
met  in  a  parlor  in  Brooklyn.  Their  purpose  was  to 
form  a  new  Congregational  Church.  They  adopted  this 
resolution :  u  That  religious  services  should  be  com- 
menced, by  divine  permission,  on  Sunday,  the  16th  day 
of  May."  Dr.  S.  H.  Cox,  then  in  his  glory,  had  out- 
grown the  small  brick  church  on  Cranberry  Street. 
His  society  had  just  completed  a  stone  edifice  on 
Henry  Street.  Mr.  John  T.  Howard,  still  a  leading 
member  in  Plymouth  Church,  obtained  the  refusal  of 
the  old  house  in  which  the  first  service  of  the  church 
was  held.  Mr.  Beecher  was  pastor  of  a  church  in 
Indianapolis.  He  was  invited  to  preach  at  the  opening 
of  the  church,  which  he  did,  morning  and  evening,  to 
audiences  which  crowded  every  part  of  the  building. 
The  new  enterprise,  under  the  name  of  "  Plymouth 


IN  NEW   YORK.  87 

Church,"  was  organized  on  the  12th  day  of  June.  1847. 
Mr.  Beecher  was  publicly  installed  on  the  llth  day  of 
November  of  the  same  year.  In  the  month  of  January, 
1849,  the  house  of  worship  was  consumed  by  fire.  On 
the  same  site  the  present  church  edifice  was  erected. 
It  has  a  metropolitan  fame,  and  is  known  in  all  quarters 
of  the  globe. 

PLYMOUTH    CHURCH    ON    SUNDAY   MORNING. 

It  is  an  exhilarating  sight  to  see  the  assembling  of 
Plymouth  congregation  on  Sunday  morning.  The 
church  is  very  large,  very  plain,  and  very  comfortable. 
It  will  seat  over  two  thousand  persons.  Its  lecture- 
room,  parlors,  Sunday-school  room,  pastor's  study,  and 
committee-rooms,  cannot  be  excelled  by  any  church  in 
the  country.  The  interior  of  the  church  is  painted 
white,  with  a  tinge  of  pink.  This  contrasts  with  the 
red  carpets  and  cushions,  and  gives  an  air  of  comfort 
and  elegance  to  the  house.  A  deep  gallery  sweeps 
round  the  entire  audience-room,  which  is  capped  with 
red  velvet.  The  seats  rise  in  amphitheatre  fashion, 
from  the  front  to  the  wall,  giving  each  a  good  view  of 
the  pulpit.  The  great  organ  stands  in  the  rear  of  the 
pulpit.  A  platform  is  reared  opposite  the  main 
entrance,  on  which  stands  a  table  made  of  wood  from 
the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  open  in  front.  There  is 
no  cushion  or  covering  to  the  table,  and  the  pastor, 
in  his  emphatic  moments,  raps  his  knuckles  on  the 
hard  board,  that  all  may  hear.  Everything  is  open 
on  and  around  the  pulpit,  so  that  the  pastor  can  be 
seen  from  his  boots  to  his  hair.  A  single  chair  stands 
on  the  platform,  indicating  that  the  pastor  needs 
no  assistance,  and  wants  no  associate.  A  crowd 


88  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

always  hangs  around  the  church  on  Sunday  morning. 
More  people  wish  to  attend  service  than  can  be  ac- 
commodated. Strangers  come  early,  fill  the  vestibule, 
and  stretch  out  into  the  street.  Policemen  keep  them 
in  order,  and  ushers  guard  the  door.  Every  seat  in  the 
house  is  let,  with  the  chairs  and  stools  in  aisles  and 
recess.  The  ushers  who  seat  the  congregation  are 
members.  Their  services  are  voluntary.  Some  of 
them  have  been  in  attendance  for  years.  They  do 
their  duty  with  great  consideration,  tact  and  efficiency. 
All  strangers  of  note  who  are  in  New  York  visit  Plym- 
outh Church.  Members  come  from  New  York,  Har- 
lem, Hoboken,  and  from  all  the  region  round  about 
Brooklyn.  There  is  but  one  Plymouth  Church  on  the 
continent.  As  the  hour  of  worship  draws  near,  long 
processions  of  persons  can  be  seen  coming  from  all 
directions.  The  cars  are  crowded,  the  ferry-boats, 
known  as  "  Beecher  boats,"  are  loaded  down,  and  all 
unite  to  swell  the  crowd  in  front  of  the  house. 

TEN-MINUTE    RULE. 

No  persons  are  allowed  to  enter  the  church,  except 
pew-holders,  till  ten  minutes  before  the  hour  of  service. 
The  small  upper  gallery,  which  is  free,  is  filled  at  once. 
The  crowd  double-line  the  door,  waiting  for  the  mo- 
ment of  admission.  As  soon  as  the  bell  begins  to  toll, 
all  seat-holders  who  are  not  in  their  pews  lose  their 
chance.  The  public  are  admitted,  #nd  they  corne  in 
with  a  rush.  The  house  becomes  one  dense  mass  of 
human  beings.  No  aisles  can  be  seen.  The  ten  inner 
doors  of  the  church  are  crowded.  Ladies  and  gentle- 
men sit  on  the  stairs  and  fill  the  vestibule.  All  the 


IN  NEW  YORK.  89 

spaces  in  the  church  are  filled,  and  standing-room 
thankfully  received.  The  services  are  long,  seldom 
less  than  two  hours.  But  the  crowd  scarcely  move  till 
the  benediction  is  pronounced.  The  organ,  the  largest 
in  any  church  in  the  land,  touched  by  a  master  hand, 
with  a  large,  well-trained  choir,  leads  the  congregation, 
which  rises  and  joins  in  the  song,  and  sends  up  a  volume 
of  melody  seldom  in  power  and  sweetness  equalled  this 
side  of  heaven.  A  basket  of  choice  flowers  stands  on 
the  pulpit.  A  member  of  the  congregation  has  for 
many  years  furnished  this  superb  floral  decoration.  In 
the  summer  he  gathers  the  flowers  from  his  own 
garden.  In  the  winter  he  leaves  a  standing  order 
with  the  most  celebrated  florist  of  Brooklyn,  who 
executes  it  as  regularly  as  the  Sabbath  dawns. 

MR.    BEECHER    IN    THE   PULPIT. 

In  the  rear  of  the  platform  is  a  small  door,  through 
which  the  pastor  usually  enters.  At  the  exact  time 
the  door  slides,  the  chair  is  pushed  suddenly  one  side, 
and  the  pastor,  with  an  elastic  bound,  comes  on  to  the 
platform,  hat  in  hand,  which  he  usually  throws  on  the 
floor.  He  takes  a  smell  at  the  vase  of  flowers,  gives  a 
sharp,  sweeping  glance  over  the  vast  auditory,  and 
seats  himself  in  his  chair.  The  congregation  has  a 
fresh,  wide-awake  appearance.  There  is  always  an 
excitement  attending  a  crowd.  Every  portion  of  the 
service  interests  and  holds  the  assembly  with  an  irre- 
sistible power.  A  great  portion  of  the  audience  are 
young.  They  crowd  the  church,  fill  the  choir,  compose 
the  many  Bible  classes  in  the  Sunday  school,  and  furnish 
the  large  corps  of  teachers.  In  the  pulpit,  Mr.  Beecher 


90  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

seems  about  fifty  years  of  age.  He  is  short  of  stature, 
stocky,  but  compactly  built.  His  countenance  is  florid 
and  youthful.  He  dresses  in  good  taste,  without  dis- 
play. A  black  frock  coat,  pants  and  vest,  collar  of  the 
Byron  order,  turned  over  a  black  cravat,  complete  his 
costume.  His  manners  are  gentle  as  a  woman's,  his 
spirit  tender  'as  a  child's,  his  smile  is  winning.  In 
the  pulpit  his  manner  is  reverent  and  impressive.  His 
voice  is  not  smooth,  but  it  is  clear,  and  fills  the  largest 
house.  He  is  very  impressive  in  prayer.  His  words 
are  fit  and  beautiful.  He  puts  himself  in  sympathy 
with  his  audience,  and  leads  them,  as  it  were,  to  the 
throne  of  grace.  His  reading  of  the  Word  of  God 
would  serve  as  a  model.  He  rises  from  his  chair, 
touches  the  Bible  as  it  lies  on  his  desk  as  if  it  were  a 
sacred  thing,  reads  with  solemnity,  taste,  and  clear 
enunciation  the  passage  selected,  with  a  heartiness  and 
artlessness  that  attracts  and  holds  the  attention.  In  all 
his  public  services  there  is  an  entire  freedom  from 
irreverence,  vulgarity,  or  cant.  In  the  heat  of  his  dis- 
course he  appears  like  a  man  engaged  in  a  great  con- 
test. He  is  on  fire.  His  face  glows,  his  cheeks  burn, 
his  eyes  flash.  He  stands  erect.  His  antagonist  is 
before  him.  He  measures  him.  He  strikes  squarely 
and  boldly.  The  contest  waxes  hotter.  The  preacher 
and  the  audience  are  in  sympathy.  He  thunders  out 
his  utterances,  and  they  ring  round  the  church,  strike 
the  audience  on  the  sidewalk,  and  arrest  the  passers 
by.  The  sweat  stands  on  his  forehead.  He  stamps 
with  his  foot.  He  thumps  the  hard  desk  with  his 
knuckles.  He  walks  rapidly  to  the  front  of  the  plat- 
form as  if  he  would  walk  off.  He  chases  his  antagonist 


IN  NEW  YORK.  91 

from  one  side  of  the  platform  to  another.  When  he 
has  floored  him,  he  pauses,  wipes  the  sweat  from  his 
forehead,  lowers  his  voice,  and  in  his  colloquial  tones 
commences  again.  He  holds  his  audience  completely 
under  his  control.  A  broad  smile,  like  a  flash  of  sun- 
light, glows  on  the  face.  A  laugh  like  the  winds  of 
autumn  among  the  dry  leaves,  shakes  the  vast  auditory. 
Tears  fill  every  eye.  The  preacher  is  at  times  col- 
loquial, dogmatic,  vehement,  boisterous,  at  all  times 
impressive. 

HIS    SERMONS. 

They  are  after  his  own  order.  He  is  his  own  model. 
No  man  can  tell  what  the  sermon  is  to  be  from  the 
text.  He  has  his  own  modes  of  illustrating  truths. 
He  finds  subjects  in  texts  where  few  men  would  think 
of  looking  for  them.  He  preaches  much  on  the  love 
of  Christ,  the  need  of  regeneration,  and  of  judgment 
to  come.  He  regards  a  Christian  as  a  fully-developed 
man,  and  he  preaches  to  him  as  a  creature  that  has 
civil,  domestic,  and  social  duties,  who  has  a  body,  intel- 
lect, and  soul  to  be  cared  for.  What  are  called 
Beecherisms  are  isolated  sayings  picked  out  from  their 
connection,  which  give  no  more  idea  of  Mr.  Beecher's 
preaching  than  the  eye  of  Venus  on  a  platter  would  of 
its  appearance  in  its  proper  place,  or  the  head  of  John 
the  Baptist  on  a  charger  as  it  would  have  appeared  on 
the  shoulders  of  that  memorable  man.  His  utterances 
that  startle,  given  in  his  bold,  energetic,  and  enthusiastic 
manner,  enforce  some  doctrine  or  fasten  some  great 
practical  truth. 

One  of  his  most  impressive  methods  is  the  use  he 
makes  of  the  Word  of  God  in  his  sermons.  In  the 


92  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

height  of  an  impassioned  appeal  he  will  pause,  and  in 
a  low,  tender  tone,  say,  "  Let  us  hear  what  the  Savior 
says."  Taking  up  a  small  Testament  that  lies  by  his 
side,  he  will  read  the  passage  referred  to.  On  it  he 
will  make  a  few  crisp,  pertinent  comments.  His 
elocution  is  peculiar,  and  he  reads  with  good  taste. 
The  idea  that  Jesus  is  speaking  to  them  pervades  the 
assembly.  No  one  doubts  but  that  the  preacher 
believes  he  is  reading  the  words  of  Jesus.  His  low, 
earnest  tones  carry  home  the  Word.  He  concludes. 
A  long,  pent-up  sigh  goes  forth,  indicating  how  deep 
the  interest  of  the  audience  was  in  the  Scripture 
read. 

He  has  great  dramatic  power.  It  is  so  clearly 
natural,  unstudied,  and  unavoidable,  that  whether  it 
sends  a  smile  through  the  audience,  or  opens  the 
fountains  of  the  soul  from  whence  tears  flow  forth,  it 
is  equally  impressive.  He  imitates  the  manner  and 
tone  of  a  drunken  man  before  a  judge,  a  blacksmith 
at  his  forge,  or  an  artisan  clinching  rivets  inside  of  a 
steam-boiler.  He  will  imitate  a  backwoodsman  whack- 
ing away  at  a  big  tree.  He  will  show  how  an  expert 
fisherman  hauls  in  a  huge  salmon  with  dexterous  skill. 
He  has  a  peculiar  shrug  of  the  shoulders.  If  he  speaks 
of  hypocrites,  he  will  draw  his  face  down  to  such  a 
length  that  it  is  irresistible.  He  has  wit,  humor,  and 
illustration,  which  keep  his  audience  wide  awake.  His 
figures,  fresh  and  lively,  are  taken  from  daily  life,  from 
his  rural  home,  his  journeys,  cold  nights  on  a  steam- 
boat, or  from  the  marts  of  trade.  He  knows  human 
nature  completely.  The  sword  of  the  Spirit  in  his 
hands  is  the  discerner  of  the  thoughts  and  intents  of 


IN  NEW  YORK.  93 

the  heart.  His  figures  are  fresh,  vivid,  and  varied. 
He  keeps  abreast  of  affairs  in  the  nation,  in  social  life, 
in  the  church,  and  in  the  world.  His  style  of  labor 
would  ruin  most  men.  He  constructs  his  morning 
sermon  on  Sunday  morning.  He  goes  from  his  study 
to  his  pulpit  with  the  performance  hot  from  his  brain. 
He  sleeps  at  noon,  composes  his  evening  discourse  after 
his  nap,  and,  glowing  with  thought  and  excitement,  he 
preaches  his  sermon.  The  sparkle  and  lightning-like 
power  of  some  parts  of  his  sermon  come  from  this 
practice.  He  gives  this  reason  for  it :  "  Some  men  like 
their  bread  cold,  some  like  it  hot.  I  like  mine  hot" 

PECULIARITIES    OF   THE    CHURCH. 

Mr.  Beecher's  tact  is  displayed  in  his  management 
of  the  large  church  over  which  he  is  pastor.  It  has  a 
membership  of  nearly  two  thousand.  It  boasts  the 
largest  congregation,  pays  the  largest  salary  to  min- 
ister, organist,  and  sexton,  has  the  largest  church  organ, 
and  one  of  the  largest  Sunday  schools,  in  the  land. 
Most  of  the  Plymouth  Church  are  young,  or  in  the  prime 
of  life.  It  has  all  grades  of  men  in  opinion  and  faith, 
—  Orthodox  and  Latitudinarians,  Conservatives  and 
Radicals,  men  of  strict  views  and  liberals,  men  steady 
as  a  Pennsylvania  cart-horse,  men  unmanageable  as 
Job's  wild  asses'  colts.  The  freedom  of  speech  is  al- 
lowed to  all.  Some  men  think  they  can  convert  the 
world  and  reform  society  in  a  few  weeks.  The  pastor 
encourages  them  to  go  ahead.  If  opposed,  such  parties, 
like  compressed  steam,  would  blow  out  the  pulpit  end 
of  Plymouth  Church.  As  it  is,  they  soon  tire  out,  and 
settle  down  into  staid  and  quiet  church  members.  For 


94  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

twenty  years  Plymouth  Church  has  been  at  peace, 
walking  in  unity  and  harmony.  No  church  has  more 
working  power.  Its  donations  to  every  cause  of  hu- 
manity, philanthropy,  and  religion  are  large.  In  mis- 
sion work,  and  every  form  of  Christian  labor,  its  mem- 
bers take  the  lead.  He  seldom  opposes  the  introduc- 
tion of  any  subject  about  which  his  people  wish  to  talk. 
He.  will  allow  an  exciting  subject,  to  which  he  is 
opposed,  to  be  introduced  for  debate.  He  will  give 
notice  of  the  discussion  from  the  pulpit.  He  will  sit 
quietly  through  the  whole  debate.  When  the  right 
time  comes,  with  a  few  kind,  earnest  words,  he  will 
squelch  out  the  matter,  as  a  man  crushes  out  a  coal 
with  the  heel  of  his  boot. 

THE  INFLUENCE  OF  PLYMOUTH  CHURCH. 

There  is  but  one  Plymouth  Church,  because  there  is 
but  one  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  Its  influence  is  felt  in 
every  part  of  this  country.  When  the  present  edifice 
rose  from  the  ashes  of  the  former  one,  its  conveniences, 
parlors,  social  rooms,  pianos,  and  other  appointments, 
were  subjects  of  general  censure  or  general  ridicule. 
Scarcely  a  church  of  any  denomination  is  now  erected 
without  them.  He  inaugurated  congregational  singing 
led  by  a  choir,  and  the  printing  of  tunes  as  well  as  hymns 
for  the  use  of  the  people.  Its  fine  Sunday-school  room, 
with  fountain,  flowers,  pictures ;  with  its  organ,  melo- 
deon,  piano,  —  tasteful,  attractive,  and  beautiful, —  was 
the  subject  of  general  censure  —  now  generally  imitated 
where  churches  have  ability  and  taste.  In  the  style  of 
its  conference  meetings,  its  Sabbath-school  work,  and 
its  relief  from  the  dull,  tedious  routine  of  the  olden 


IN  NEW  YORK.  95 

time,  in  its  identity  with  the  reforms  and  humanities 
of  life,  and  in  its  social  power,  the  Plymouth  Church 
affects  nearly  all  the  churches  in  the  land.  Should  the 
pastor  die,  the  church  dissolve,  and  no  visible  organiza- 
tion remain,  it  would  speak,  though  dead,  to  all  parts 
of  the  land,  in  the  islands  of  the  sea,  on  the  mountains 
of  the  Old  World,  and  in  all  places  where  spirit  and 
success  attend  the  ministry  of  the  Word. 

MR.    BEECHER    IN    THE    LECTURE-ROOM. 

Those  who  have  not  seen  Mr  Beecher  in  his  lecture- 
room  know  little  of  him,  or  his  power  over  his  people. 
The  room  is  large,  and  will  hold  a  thousand  persons. 
It  is  as  plain  as  decency  will  allow.  Settees  fill  the 
room,  covered  with  crimson  cushions.  A  carpet  covers 
a  part  of  the  floor.  The  platform  stands  between  two 
doors  at  one  end  of  the  room.  It  has  neither  railing, 
desk,  nor  drapery.  A  small  table  holds  the  Bible  and 
hymn-book.  Beside  it  is  a  cane-seat  chair.  Promptly 
on  the  hour  Mr.  Beecher  seats  himself  in  the  chair,  and 
gives  out  the  number  of  the  hymn.  He  uses  none  of 
the  formulas  so  common,  such  as,  "  Let  us  sing  to  the 
praise  of  God,"  or  "  Let  us  introduce  our  worship,"  or 
"  Sing,  if  you  please ; "  nor  does  he  read  the  hymn.  He 
simply  says,  "  740."  The  house  is  entirely  full.  The 
sound  of  the  people  finding  the  hymn  is  like  the  rustling 
of  autumn  leaves.  The  singing  is  not  a  formality.  On 
the  left  hand  of  Mr.  Beecher  is  a  grand  piano,  played 
by  the  organist,  which  leads  the  congregation.  It  is 
full,  grand,  majestic.  Mr.  Beecher  leads.  If  the  con- 
gregation sings  faintly,  he  calls  for  a  full  chorus.  If 
they  drag,  he  reminds  them  that  though  the  words  are 


96  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

sweet,  singing  must  come  up  to  time.  Some  brother 
is  called  on  to  pray.  Another  hymn  is  sung,  another 
prayer  offered.  Another  hymn.  Then,  sitting  in  his 
chair,  Mr.  Beecher  makes  an  address,  sharp,  interest- 
ing and  tender.  He  carries  his  audience  with  him  in 
prayer.  All  bow  the  head  while  he  utters  the  words  of 
tenderness,  entreaty,  and  thanksgiving.  His  people  lie 
near  his  heart.  Their  woes,  wants,  sorrows,  and  joys 
are  borne  upward  on  his  petitions.  At  the  close,  the 
loud  respiration  and  the  suppressed  cough  indicate 
how  intense  the  sympathy  has  been  between  pastor 
and  people  as  they  bow  at  the  mercy-seat. 

The  meeting  continues  only  an  hour.  The  enjoy- 
ment runs  through  the  whole  service.  The  hour  is 
only  too  short.  No  one  is  weary  ;  no  one  glad  when 
the  closing  hymn  is  given  out.  He  does  not  rise  to 
give  an  address,  but  sits  in  his  chair  like  a  professor. 
He  has  much  to  do  with  religious  experience.  He  often 
sketches  his  early  struggles  —  some  anecdote  of  his 
father ;  some  mishap  of  his  childhood  ;  his  college 
troubles ;  his  conflicts  with  poverty ;  how  he  groped 
in  darkness  seeking  for  the  Savior ;  how  he  built  a 
house  in  Indianapolis,  and  painted  it  with  his  own 
hands.  So  he  fills  up  his  address,  which  illustrates 
some  practical  or  doctrinal  truth.  He  fills  up  lecture- 
room  talks,  as  he  calls  them,  with  things  rich,  spicy, 
exhilarating  and  humorous. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  97 


HIS    CONVERSION. 

In  a  season  of  much  religious  interest,  Mr.  Beecher 
gave  this  account  of  his  conversion.  Family  influence 
led  him  into  the  church.  He  was  a  professor  before  he 
was  a  Christian.  He  tried  to  do  his  duty,  but  he  did 
not  know  his  Savior,  and  had  no  joy  in  his  service. 
He  was  at  Amherst  College  when  a  powerful  revival 
of  religion  broke  out.  He  was  deeply  moved.  He 
passed  days  in  agony,  and  kneeled  by  the  side  of  his  bed 
for  hours  in  prayer.  He  was  as  one  alone  in  a  dark 
and  lonely  castle,  wandering  from  room  to  room,  sick, 
cold,  and  in  terror.  He  called  on  the  president  of  the 
college.  This  was  a  great  cross,  as  he  was  known  to 
be  a  member  of  the  church.  The  president  shook  his 
head  as  Mr.  Beecher  told  him  his  condition,  and  refused 
to  interfere,  lest  he  should  grieve  the  Holy  Spirit.  Mr. 
Beecher  went  home  no  better,  but  rather  worse.  He 
attended  the  village  church.  He  remained  among  the 
inquirers.  The  minister,  talking  with  the  anxious, 
came  within  one  pew  of  him,  and  then  went  back  to 
the  pulpit.  The  college  course  was  completed,  and 
Mr.  Beecher  was  not  converted. 

At  Cincinnati  he.  began  the  study  of  theology.  His 
father's  influence  led  him  to  that  course.  He  entered 
the  Seminary  to  please  his  father,  but  did  not  intend  to 
be  a  minister.  He  not  only  was  not  a  Christian,  but 
he  was  sceptical.  One  of  his  brothers  had  swung  off 
into  scepticism,  and  should  another  openly  follow,  he 
thought  it  would  break  his  father's  heart.  So  he  be- 
came a  student  in  theology.  Some  ladies,  belonging 
to  the  first  families  in  Cincinnati,  invited  him  to  be- 
7 


98  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

come  their  Bible-class  teacher.  How  could  he  teach 
what  he  did  not  know,  or  enforce  what  he  did  not 
believe  ?  He  was  a  member  of  the  church,  and  a  theo- 
logical student,  and  he  could  not  honorably  decline. 
All  he  need  do  was  to  tell  the  class  what  the  Gospels 
contained.  He  need  not  tell  them  what  he  thought  of 
them.  So  his  work  began.  He  studied  and  collated 
the  Gospels.  He  put  together  all  the  passages,  hints, 
scraps,  and  facts  that  bore  on  the  character  of  Jesus, 
and  his  relation  to  lost  men.  In  this  study  Jesus  ap- 
peared to  him.  He  smote  the  rock,  and  the  waters 
gushed  out.  He  saw  the  Savior,  with  all  his  love  and 
compassion,  and  fell  at  his  feet  to  adore.  "  Never,  till 
I  get  home,"  said  Mr.  Beecher,  "  will  I  have  brighter 
visions  of  my  Redeemer.  I  saw  Jesus  in  all  things  — 
in  the  flowers,  in  the  fruits,  in  the  trees,  in  the  sky, 
and,  above  all  things,  in  the  gospel.  Years  ago,  in 
my  deep  anguish  at  Amherst,  had  some  one  said  to 
me,  <  Young  man,  behold  the  Lamb  of  God/  I  should 
have  then  found  the  Savior,  and  have  been  spared 
years  of  darkness,  anguish  and  sorrow."  This  state- 
ment was  made  by  Mr.  Beecher  while  he  was  deeply 
affected.  Tears  coursed  down  his  cheeks.  His  emo- 
tions, at  times,  forbade  his  utterance ;  while  the  great 
audience  heard,  with  hushed  attention,  this  revelation 
of  his  religious  experience. 

PERSONAL. 

Mr.  Beecher  assumes  no  control  over  his  church. 
The  astounding  rental  goes  into  the  hands  of  his  trus- 
tees. They  pay  Mr.  Beecher  an  annual  salary,  and 
dispose  of  the  rest  as  they  please.  In  Plymouth  Church, 


IN  NEW  YORK.  99 

he  is  a  simple  member,  and  nothing  more,  except  in 
the  pulpit.  He  conducts  the  Friday  night  meeting, 
because  the  church  have  voted  to  have  him  do  so. 
"When  a  church  meeting  is  held,  he  never  takes  the 
chair  unless  it  is  voted  that  he  shall  do  so.  Sometimes 
he  is  elected,  sometimes  not.  The  old-fashioned,  hard 
theology  Mr.  Beecher  does  not  like.  He  often  selects 
the  ugly  features  of  that  system,  and  pitches  into  them 
like  a  pugilist.  He  holds  them  up  to  scorn  and  deris- 
ion, and  stamps  upon  them  with  his  feet.  As  a  religious 
teacher,  Mr.  Beecher  regards  a  man  in  all  his  relations. 
He  preaches  to  him  as  he  finds  him.  He  takes  a  child, 
and  runs  him  through  all  the  phases  of  life  to  old  age. 
He  preaches  t(^  man  as  a  son,  a  brother,  a  subordinate ; 
as  a  workman,  a  clerk,  one  bound  to  college  or  to  one 
of  the  professions.  He  believes  Christianity  takes  hold 
of  social,  moral,  and  political  life.  He  can  turn  his 
hand  to  anything.  His  reading  is  extensive  and 
varied.  He  is  a  capital  mechanic.  His  farm  at  Peeks- 
kill,  his  rotation  of  crops,  his  rare  and  choice  fruits, 
show  that  he  is  as  superior  a  farmer  as  he  is  a 
preacher.  In  art  matters  he  has  few  superiors.  He 
would  have  been  eminent  in  anything  he  might  have 
chosen  to  do.  No  man  in  the  world  understands  his 
physical  system  better,  or  conforms  more  closely,  in 
eating,  sleeping,  and  exercise,  to  the  laws  of  health. 
He  is  thoroughly  temperate.  He  is  over  fifty  years  of 
age,  and  is  robust  and  healthy,  and  has  twenty-five 
years  of  hard  work  in  him  yet.  He  lives  plainly,  is 
simple  in  his  dress  and  in  his  habits.  Seen  in  the 
street,  one  would  sooner  take  him  for  an  express-man 


100  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

in   a   hurry  for   the   cars,  than   the   most   successful 
preacher  in  America. 

AS  A  PASTOR. 

Like  Spurgeon,  Mr.  Beecher  believes  in  preaching. 
He  does  no  pastoral  work,  in  the  proper  sense  of  that 
term.  He  visits  the  sick,  buries  the  dead,  performs 
marriages,  but  he  must  be  sent  for.  His  parish  is  so 
immense,  so  scattered,  that  he  could  do  nothing  else  if 
he  undertook  to  visit. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  101 


X. 

HARPER    BROTHERS. 

RECORD  OF  FIFTY  TEARS. — JAMES'S  BOYHOOD.  —  ORIGIN  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF 
HARPERS.  —  ESTABLISHMENT  ON  FRANKLIN  SQUARE.  —  EMPLOYEES.  — 
THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  HOUSE.  — THE  COUNTING-ROOM. 

RECORD    OF   FIFTY   YEARS. 

JAMES,  John,  Wesley,  and  Fletcher  Harper  —  who 
compose  the  house  of  Harper  Brothers  —  have  been  in 
successful  business  for  fifty  years.  Their  publishing 
house,  on  Franklin  Square,  is  the  largest  of  the  kind  in 
the  world.  Brockhaus,  in  Leipsic,  and  the  great  estab- 
lishments on  the  continent  of  Europe,  do  not  combine 
all  the  departments  of  labor  necessary  for  the  produc- 
tion of  a  book.  In  Europe,  books  are  usually  sold  in 
sheets.  Printing  is  one  department,  electrotyping 
another,  and  binding  a  distinct  business.  The  Harpers 
print,  electrotype,  and  bind  under  one  roof.  The 
manuscript  is  taken  from  the  author,  the  types  from  the 
foundry,  leather  from  the  currier,  and  paper  from  the 
mill.  They  leave  the  establishment  a  perfect  book, 
printed,  illustrated,  and  bound  in  the  highest  style 
of  art. 


102  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

JAMES'S  BOYHOOD. 

In  1810  James  Harper  left  his  rural  home  on  Long 
Island  to  become  a  printer.  His  parents  were  devout 
Methodists.  His  mother  was  a  woman  of  rare  gifts. 
The  morning  James  left  his  home,  to  begin  the  great 
battle  of  life  for  himself,  his  mother  led  the  family 
devotions.  With  a  heart  full  of  maternal  love  she 
commended  her  child  to  the  Savior.  She  embraced 
him  fervently,  and  bade  him  never  forget  his  home, 
.the  altar  of  his  God,  or  that  he  had  "  good  blood  in 
him."  He  was  the  "  devil "  in  the  printing-office  not 
far  from  where  the  massive  house  of  the  Harpers  now 
stands.  All  the  mean  and  servile  work  was  put  upon 
him.  At  that  time  Franklin  Square  was  a  genteel 
abode.  The  old  Knickerbockers,  who  were  in  trade, 
had  their  stores  in  and  around  that  place.  Sons  of 
judges,  aldermen,  and  men  of  money  crossed  the  path 
of  the  young  apprentice.  His  clothes,  made  in  the  old 
homestead,  wrere  coarse  in  material,  and  unfashionable 
in  cut.  The  young  bucks  made  sport  of  James.  They 
shouted  to  him  across  the  street,  — "  Did  your  boots 
come  from  Paris  ?  "  "  Give  us  a  card  to  your  tailor ! " 
"Jim,  what  did  your  mother  give  a  yard  for  your 
broadcloth  ?  "  Sometimes  the  rude  fellows  came  near, 
and  under  the  pretence  of  feeling  of  the  fineness  of  the 
cloth,  would  grasp  the  flesh.  James  bore  this  insult  and 
taunting  with  meekness,  which  was  construed  into  cow- 
ardice. He  saw  that  he  must  take  his  stand,  and  end 
this  imposition.  He  had  no  idea  of  wealth  or  position, 
but  he  meant  to  do  right,  and  so  conduct  himself  that 
his  mother  would  not  be  ashamed  of  him.  He  meant 


IN   NEW   YORK.  103 

to  earn  all  the  success  and  position  that  fidelity  to  duty 
could  secure.  But  he  resolved  not  to  be  imposed  upon. 
One  day,  as  he  was  doing  some  menial  work,  he  was 
set  upon  by  one  of  his  tormentors,  who  asked  him  for 
his  card.  He  turned  on  his  assailant,  having  deliber- 
ately set  down  a  pail  that  he  was  carrying,  booted 
him  severely,  and  said,  "  That's  my  card :  take  good 
care  of  it.  When  I  am  out  of  my  time,  and  set  up  for 
myself,  and  you  need  employment,  as  you  will,  come  to 
me,  bring  the  card,  and  I  will  give  you  work."  Forty- 
one  years  after,  when  Mr.  Harper's  establishment  was 
known  throughout  all  the  land,  after  he  had  borne  the 
highest  municipal  honors  of  the  city,  and  had  become 
one  of  our  wealthiest  men,  the  person  who  had  received 
the  card  came  to  Mr.  James  Harper's  establishment, 
asked  employment,  claiming  it  on  the  ground  that  he 
had  kept  the  card  given  him  forty-one  years  before. 

ORIGIN    OF   THE    HOUSE    OF   HARPERS. 

With  great  fidelity  James  served  out  his  time.  His 
master  was  pleased  with  him.  In  a  patronizing  way, 
he  told  him  when  he  was  free  he  never  should  want 
for  employment.  James  rather  surprised  his  old  master 
by  informing  him  that  he  intended  to  set  up  for  him- 
self; that  he  had  already  engaged  to  do  a  job,  and  that 
all  he  wanted  was  a  certificate  from  his  master  that  he 
was  worthy  to  be  trusted  with  a  book.  In  a  small 
room  in  Dover  Street,  James  and  his  brother  John 
began  their  work  as  printers.  Their  first  job  was  two 
thousand  volumes  of  Seneca's  Morals.  This  job  was 
given  to  them  by  Evert  Duyckinck,  the  leading  pub- 
lisher of  that  day.  The  second  book  laid  the  founda- 


104  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

tion  of  the  permanent  success  of  the  house.  The 
Harpers  had  agreed  to  stereotype  an  edition  of  the 
Prayer  Book  for  the  Episcopal  Society  of  New  York. 
Stereotyping  was  in  a  crude  state,  and  the  work  was 
roughly  done.  When  the  Harpers  took  the  contract, 
they  intended  to  have  it  done  at  some  one  of  the 
establishments  in  the  city.  They  found  that  it  woulc} 
cost  them  more  than  they  were  to  receive.  They  re- 
solved to  learn  the  art,  and  do  the  work  themselves. 
It  was  a  slow  and  difficult  labor.  But  it  was  accom- 
plished. It  was  pronounced  the  best  piece  of  stereo- 
typing ever  seen  in  New  York.  It  put  the  firm  at  the 
head  of  the  business.  It  was  found  to  be  industrious, 
honorable,  and  reliable.  In  six  years  it  became  the 
great  printing  house  of  New  York.  In  1823,  Joseph 
Wesley  Harper  entered  the  firm.  In  1826,  Fletcher 
Harper  was  added.  These  names  constitute  the  house 
of  Harper  Brothers  to  this  day.  Besides  personal  at- 
tention to  business,  the  brothers  exercised  great  econ- 
omy in  their  personal  and  domestic  expenses.  John 
commenced  house-keeping  in  the  lower  story  of  a  small, 
genteel  house,  paying  the  annual  rent  of  one  hundred 
and  eighty  dollars.  One  thousand  dollars  was  what  it 
cost  the  brothers  each  to  live  for  the  first  ten  years  of 
their  business  life.  It  is  their  custom  when  they  start 
a  new  business  enterprise,  such  as  the  Weekly  or  the 
Bazar,  to  set  apart  a  capital  of  fifty  or  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  as  the  case  may  be,  to  be  expended 
in  placing  the  new  enterprise  on  a  paying  founda- 
tion. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  105 


ESTABLISHMENT    ON   FRANKLIN    SQUARE. 

The  house  is  an  immense  iron  building,  painted  in 
imitation  of  white  marble.  It  covers  half  an  acre  of 
ground.  It  is  fire-proof,  seven  stories  high,  and  is  one 
of  the  most  complete",  airy,  and  pleasant  edifices  in  the 
city.  It  has  two  frontages,  one  on  Franklin  Square 
and  one  on  Cliff  Street.  Its  apartments  are  united  by 
iron  bridges  thrown  across  the  court.  The  stairways 
are  circular,  and  are  outside  the  building.  There  are 
no  openings  in  the  floor  for  fire  to  communicate  from 
one  story  to  another.  The  rooms  are  elegant,  and  well 
ventilated.  Modern  improvements  for  comfort,  health, 
and  cleanliness  abound.  Expensive  and  curious  ma- 
chinery fill  the  chambers.  The  folding  machines,  the 
presses,  the  marbling  department,  the  mysteries  of 
electrotyping,  the  marvellous  inventions  by  which 
science  becomes  the  handmaid  of  toil,  and  wipes  the 
sweat  curse  from  the  brow  of  labor,  are  among  the 
curiosities  shown. 

EMPLOYEES. 

The  movements  of  the  nicely-adjusted  machinery 
are  scarcely  more  quiet  and  elastic  than  are  the  move- 
ments of  the  six  hundred  persons  employed  in  this 
house.  Pen,  brain,  the  pencil  of  the  designer,  the  chis- 
el of  the  engraver,  the  skill  of  the  artist,  the  neatness 
and  taste  of  women,  intelligent  mechanism,  find  here 
employment.  The  liberal,  genial,  honorable  spirit  of 
the  proprietors  prompts  them  to  pay  the  best  wages, 
and  secure  the  best  talent.  Those  who  enter  the  house 
seldom  leave  it.  Boys  have  become  men,  and  they 
still  come  and  go  as  regularly  as  the  sun.  The  middle- 


106  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

aged  have  become  gray-headed.  The  sons  of  men  who 
have  grown  old  in  the  service  and  have  died,  step  in  to 
take  their  fathers'  place.  One  old  man,  who  has  lived 
in  the  vaults  for  half  a  century,  and  has  charge  of  the 
plates,  and  will  live  nowhere  else,  who  talks  constantly 
about  the  "good  Mr.  Harpers,"  as  he  calls  his  old 
masters,  is  still  hale,  hearty,  and  happy  as  when  a  boy 
he  did  the  bidding  of  James  and  John. 

THE    CHARACTER    OF   THE   HOUSE. 

The  uniform  prosperity  and  success  of  the  house  of 
Harpers  for  half  a  century  shows  conclusively  that 
integrity  and  honesty  are  worth  something  in  trade. 
The  Harpers  have  kept  abreast  of  the  times,  and  held 
the  lead  from  1826  to  this  hour.  Their  mercantile  re- 
pute is  without  a  stain,  and  their  honor  untarnished. 
Their  imprint  on  a  book  fixes  the  reputation,  and  often 
guarantees  the  fortune,  of  the  author.  Hardly  an 
American  book  comes  out  that  is  not  offered  first  to 
this  house.  Eminent  authors  in  Europe  send  for  their 
terms.  The  most  celebrated  writers  on  the  Continent 
beg  the  Harpers  to  introduce  them  to  the  American 
public.  Two  thousand  works,  three  thousand  volumes, 
twelve  hundred  of  which  are  original,  are  the  issue  of 
one  season.  The  weekly  and  monthly  pictorials  are 
marvels  of  success,  of  elegant  typography,  graphic 
illustration.  The  house  has  driven  out  the  vile  yellow- 
covered  books,  once  so  common  in  genteel  and  even 
Christian  homes,  by  affording  attractive,  elegant,  and 
cheap  stirring  works  of  fiction.  The  circulation  of 
half  a  million  of  the  Weekly  and  the  Monthly  shows  at 
once  the  demand  for  light  literature,  and  how  readily 


IN  NEW  YORK.  107 

the  public  will  welcome  the  pure  when  it  is  offered. 
Two  hundred  and  ten  thousand  of  Harper's  Weekly 
have  been  sold  in  one  week.  Thousands  of  persons 
are  dependent  on  this  firm  for  their  daily  bread.  Hus- 
bands and  parents,  brothers  and  sisters,  booksellers  and 
agents,  artists  and  authors,  outside  of  the  establishment, 
in  all  parts  of  the  land,  find  employment  at  their 
hands.  At  an  early  day  the  Harpers  opened  a  genteel 
and  healthy  field  of  labor  for  women.  Ladies  of -taste 
and  talent,  numbered  by  hundreds,  find  protection  and 
good  wages  under  this  honorable  roof. 

THE   COUNTING-ROOM. 

In  the  centre  of  the  main  floor,  railed  in  by  an  iron 
fence,  is  a  space  fifteen  by  forty  feet,  which  is  the 
sanctum  of  the  brothers.  Within  the  enclosure  are 
sofas,  desks,- and  easy-chairs  for  persons  having  business 
with  the  house.  Here  may  be  seen,  from  day  to  day, 
the  original  founders  of  the  firm,  James,  John,  and 
Joseph,  the  youngest  of  whom  is  over  sixty,  but  looking 
less  than  forty.  James,  the  founder  of  the  house,  would 
be  a  marked  man  anywhere  —  tall,  well-proportioned, 
with  dark  hair,  heavy  eyebrows,  a  pleasant  expression, 
a  genial  smile  and  a  kind  word  for  all.  A  devout 
Methodist,  he  is  a  liberal  supporter  of  all  good  things. 
The  wealth  he  has  so  nobly  earned  flows  as  constant 
as  the  river.  When  New  York  was  so  badly  governed 
that  neither  property  nor  life  was  safe,  and  the  people 
arose  in  their  might  to  effect  a  change,  Mr.  Harper  was 
chosen  their  standard-bearer,  and  was  elected,  trium- 
phantly, mayor  of  the  city.  John  is  thick-set  and 
stocky,  but  not  as  tall  as  his  brother.  Joseph  is  thin, 


108  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

spare,  and  looks  very  little  like  the  elder  member  of 
the  firm.  In  the  counting-house  during  the  day  may 
be  met  the  most  distinguished  authors,  writers,  and 
artists  of  the  land ;  men  of  letters,  foreign  and  native, 
making  it  the  "  Literary  'Change  "  of  New  York.  The 
whole  air  is  redolent  with  talent,  literature,  and  taste. 
Surrounding  the  original  members  of  the  firm  are  the 
sons,  on  whom  already  the  burden  of  the  establishment 
rests.  ^  They  inherit  the  urbanity,  probity,  and  thrift 
that  has  made  the  name  they  bear  so  famous  and  so 
honored.  It  is  no  common  boon  to  found  such  a  house, 
to  find  it  green  and  vigorous  at  the  close  of  a  half 
century,  to  have  leisure  and  wealth  for  repose  or  travel, 
and  to  be  surrounded  by  children  able  and  willing  to 
bear  down  the  honor  and  business  of  the  establishment 
to  generations  to  come.  It  is  a  genial  spot  in  which  to 
pass  a  half  hour.  With  such  company,  genial  conver- 
sation is  blended  with  the  politeness  and  the  blandness 
of  the  old  school.  If  the  Brothers  Cheeryble  have  a 
house  in  New  York,  it  is  located  in  Franklin  Square. 


In  NEW  YOEK.  109 


XI. 

V 

STOCK    AND    OIL    PREACHERS 


THE     NEW  TOEK    PULPIT.  —  MINISTERIAL     SPECULATORS.  —  A   SPECIMEN 

IN    POINT. 

THE    NEW   YORK   PULPIT. 

As  a  whole,  the  ministry  of  New  York  is  able  and 
greatly  respected.  A  fashionable  New  York  church  can 
command  almost  any  talent  in  the  country.  Besides 
this,  there  is  almost  every  variety  of  talent  in  the  New 
York  pulpit  —  the  radical  who  makes  his  pulpit  a 
political  forum,  and  the  well-to-do  conservative  who 
meddles  with  neither  politics  nor  religion.  The  trader, 
the  man  sharp  at  bargains,  men  found  on  Change,  with 
the  stock  and  oil  preachers,  abound.  Some  are  in 
political  life,  others  are  connected  with  the  daily  press. 
Some  are  in  literary  pursuits ;  some  write  books,  others 
review  them.  An  attempt  was  made  some  time  since 
to  keep  the  Sabbath  more  loosely,  and  a  New  York 
clergyman  was  found  willing  to  lead  the  attempt. 
Ministers  of  New  York  have  been  found  willing  to 
throw  their  silk  gowns  over  the  players,  and  have 
preached  sermons  to  show  the  connection  between 
religion  and  the  stage.  Nearly  every  faith  known  to 


110  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

the  civilized  world  has  a  local  habitation  in  New  York, 
and  a  priest  to  minister  at  its  altar. 

MINISTERIAL    SPECULATORS. 

Among  the  most  excited  in  the  stock  market  are 
men  who  profess  to  be  clergymen.  One  of  this  class 
realized  a  snug  little  fortune  of  eighty  thousand  dollars 
in  his  speculations.  He  did  not  want  to  be  known  in 
the  matter.  Daily  he  laid  his  funds  on  his  broker's 
desk.  If  any  thing  was  "realized,"  it  was  taken  quietly 
away.  The  broker,  tired  of  doing  business  on  the  sly, 
advised  the  customer,  if  the  thing  was  distasteful  to 
him,  or  he  was  ashamed  openly  to  be  in  business,  he 
had  better  retire  from  Wall  Street.  Men  of  this  class 
often  have  a  nominal  charge.  They  affect  to  have 
some  mission  for  which  they  collect  money.  They 
roam  about  among  our  benevolent  institutions,  visit 
prisons  or  mission-schools,  anywhere  they  can  -  get  a 
chance  to  talk,  to  the  great  disgust  of  regular  mission- 
aries and  the  horror  of  superintendents.  They  can  be 
easily  known  by  white  cravats,  sanctified  looks,  and  the 
peculiar  unction  of  their  whine.  They  can  be  seen 
daily  upon  the  curbstone  in  Wall  Street,  speculating  in 
stocks,  horses,  houses  and  oil ;  indeed,  anything  that 
turns  up. 

A   SPECIMEN   IN   POINT. 

One  man  in  New  York  especially  illustrates  the 
gentlemen-  of  the  cloth  who  are  familiar  with  stocks. 
His  name  appears  in  the  Sunday  notices  as  the  min- 
ister of  an  tip-town  church.  Down  town  he  is  known 
as  a  speculator.  His  place  of  worship  is  a  little  house 
built  in  his  yard.  It  is  not  as  long  or  as  wide  as  the 


IN  NEW  YORK.  Ill 

room  in  which  he  writes  his  sermons.  The  pastor  is  a 
speculator.  His  church  is  his  capital,  and  on  'change 
"Rev."  pays  well.  He  has  controlled  and  abandoned 
half  a  dozen  churches,  and  here  his  speculation  com- 
menced. He  went  over  to  London,  made  a  written 
contract  with  Spurgeon,  the  celebrated  preacher,  by 
which  Spurgeon  was  to  visit  this  country.  It  bound 
Spurgeon  to  give  a  certain  number  of  lectures  in  the 
principal  cities  of  the  land.  Tickets  were  to  be  issued 
to  admit  to  the  services.  One  half  the  proceeds  Mr. 
Spurgeon  was  to  take  with  him  to  London  to  build  his 
tabernacle,  the  other  half  was  to  be  left  in  the  hands 
of  the  gentleman  who  brought  him  over  and  engi- 
neered him  through.  The  contract  coming  to  light 
produced  a  great  commotion,  and  Mr.  Spurgeon  declined 
to  fulfil  it.  The  war  breaking  out,  this  clerical  gentle- 
man tried  his  hand  at  a  horse  contract.  He  approached 
a  general  of  high  position,  said  he  was  a  poor  minister, 
times  were  hard,  and  he  wanted  to  make  a  little  money. 
Would  the  general  give  him  a  contract?  One  was 
placed  in  his  hands  for  the  purchase  of  a  number  of 
horses.  The  minister  sold  the  contract,  and  made  a 
handsome  thing  of  it.  The  government  was  cheated. 
A  committee  of  Congress,  in  looking  up  frauds  in  this 
city,  turned  up  this  contract.  In  a  report  to  Congress, 
the  general  and  the  minister  were  mentioned  in  no 
complimentary  terms.  While  these  transactions  were 
going  on  in  New  York,  the  general  was  in  the  field, 
where  the  battle  was  the  thickest,  maintaining  the 
honor  of  the  flag.  The  report  in  which  his  name  was 
dishonorably  mentioned  reached  him.  His  indignation 
was  roused.  He  sent  a  letter  to  the  speculating 


112  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

preacher,  sharp  as  the  point  of  his  sword.  He  told 
him  if  he  did  not  clear  him  every  way  from  all  dis- 
honorable connection  in  the  transaction  complained  of, 
he  would  shoot  him  in  the  street  as  soon  as  he  returned 
to  New  York.  He  was  a  man  quite  as  likely  to  do  it 
as  to  say  it.  He  added,  that  it  was  quite  enough  for 
him  to  put  his  life  in  peril  on  the  battle-field  for  the 
national  cause,  without  being  slandered  by  speculators 
at  home,  who  were  lining  their  pockets  at  the  expense 
of  a  bleeding  country.  The  frightened  minister  made 
haste  to  make  the  demanded  reparation. 

These  portraits  are  drawn  from  life.  A  picture  of 
New  York  would  not  be  graphic  and  true  without  them. 
The  character  and  standing  of  such  men  are  as  well 
known  as  the  City  Hall.  They  are  held  in  as  light 
esteem  by  the  respectable  clergy  of  the  city,  and  by 
the  honorable  men  of  their  own  denomination,  as  they 
are  by  the  speculators  whom  they  attempt  to  imitate. 


IN  NEW   YOBK.  113 


XII. 

JOHN   JACOB    ASTOR. 

HIS  EARLY  LIFE.  —  EMBARKS  FOR  AMERICA.  —  HE  BEGINS  BUSINESS.  —  EARLT 
SUCCESS.  —  ENGAGES  IN  COMMERCE.  —  SITE  OF  THE  ASTOR  HOUSE.  —  HIS 
STYLE  OF  BUSINESS.  —  A  BRIDAL  GIFT.  —  HIS  LIBERALITY.  —  ASTOR  LIBRARY. 
—  THE  MORLEY  LEASE.  —  HOW  HIS  WEALTH  WAS  LEFT.  —  MR.  ASTOR  AT 
EIGHTY-ONE.  —  HIS  RELIGION.  —  HIS  CLOSING  HOURS. 

HIS   EARLY   LIFE. 

WHILE  New  York  has  a  name,  the  memory  of  John 
Jacob  Astor  will  form  an  important  part  of  our  historic 
fame.  As  the  tall  cliff  among  the  hillocks,  or  the 
cathedral  among  the  lowly  dwellings,  so  he  towers 
among  his  compeers.  He  was  born  on  the  17th  of  July, 
1763,  in  the  small  village  of  Waldorf,  near  Heidelberg, 
in  the  duchy  of  Baden,  Germany.  His  father  was  a 
very  respectable  man,  and  held  the  office  of  bailiff! 
Mr.  Astor  was  a  countryman  of  Martin  Luther,  and 
possessed  many  traits  that  marked  the  great  reformer. 
He  was  educated  by  his  mother.  His  school  books 
were  the  Bible  and  the  Book  of  Common  Prayer. 
During  his  long  life,  it  was  his  habit,  on  waking  in 
the  morning,  to  read  from  those  books  that  he  used 
in  the  home  of  his  boyhood. 
8 


114  SUNSHINE.  AJSD 


EMBAKKS   FOR   AMERICA. 

He  was  twenty  years  old  at  the  close  of  the  war  of 
Independence.  He  resolved  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the 
New  World.  He  was  a  poor,  uneducated  boy,  and  he 
trudged  on  foot  from  home  to  the  seaport  from  which 
he  was  to  sail.  A  small  bundle  held  all  his  worldly 
effects.  He  had  money  enough  to  secure  a  common 
steerage  passage.  He  expected  to  land  penniless  on 
American  soil.  Outside  of  his  native  village  he  paused, 
and  cast  towards  it  one  last,  long  look.  Beneath  the 
linden  tree  under  which  he  stood  he  formed  three 
resolutions :  "  I  will  be  honest,  I  will  be  industrious,  I 
will  never  gamble."  He  kept  these  resolutions  to  the 
day  of  his  death.  He  sailed  from  London  in  March, 
1783.  His  voyage  was  long  and  very  boisterous.  He 
formed  friendships  on  board  the  vessel  that  laid  the 
foundation  for  his*  future  wealth.  The  father  of  ex- 
Mayor  Tiemann,  and  Mr.  Paflf,  of  whom  Mr.  Astor 
bought  a  portion  of  the  ground  on  which  the  Astor 
House  now  stands,  were  passengers.  As  Wesley,  on 
the  Atlantic  Ocean,  formed  the  acquaintance  of  the 
Moravians,  whose  influence  over  him  changed  his  whole 
life,  so  Mr.  Astor  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  furrier,  in 
the  steerage  of  his  vessel,  that  introduced  him  to  thai 
business  by  which  he  accumulated  millions. 
aiZood  .  ;:oa  *H  .10*0111  em  W  fe**w*$  Btw  fa 

HE   BEGINS   BUSINESS. 

A:ll  sorts  of  stories  are  circulated  about  the  early 
career  of  Mr.  Astor.  He  is  said  to  have  commenced 
trading  in  apples  and  peanuts.  Had  this  been  so,  it 
would  have  reflected  no  disgrace  on  him  or  his  chil- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  115 

dren.  He  brought  with  him  seven  flutes  from  his 
brother's  manufactory  in  London,  These  he  sold.  He 
invested  the  proceeds  in  furs.  He  went  steadily  to 
work  to  learn  the  trade  for  himself.  He  was  frugal, 
industrious,  and  early  exhibited  great  tact  in  trade. 
He  was  accustomed  to  say,  later  in  life,  that  the  only 
hard  step  in  making  his  fortune  was  in  the  accumula- 
tion of  the  first  thousand  dollars.  He  possessed  marked 
executive  ability.  He  was  quick  in  his  perceptions. 
He  came  rapidly  to  his  conclusions.  He  made  a  trade 
or  rejected  it  at  once.  In  his  humblest  relations  to 
trade  he  exhibited  all  the  characteristics  which  marked 
him  in  maturer  life.  He  made  distinct  contracts.  These 
he  adhered  to  with  inflexible  purpose.  He  was  elastic 
and  sprightly  in  his  disposition,  cheerful,  open-hearted 
and  honorable.  His  broad  German  face  glowed  with 
intelligence  and  kindness.  The  honor  of  New  York, 
his  adopted  city,  was  always  dear  to  him. 

EARLY   SUCCESS. 

Mr.  Astor  was  fortunate  in  obtaining  a  clerkship  in  the 
house  of  Robert  Bowne,  an  honest,  wealthy  Quaker, 
who  was  ever  after  the  fast  friend  of  Mr.  Astor; 
Astor's  brother,  Harry,  was  a  rich  Bowery  butcher. 
He  furnished  funds  to  his  brother  to  set  up  for  himself 
in  the  fur  trade.  Mr.  Astor  founded  the  American 
Fur  Company,  and  had  several  partners,  among  whom 
Peter  Smith,  the  father  of  Gerrit  Smith,  was  conspicu- 
ous. Mr.  Smith  retired  from  the  firm  with  a  fortune 
of  two  millions.  Mr.  Astor  kept  on  his  way,  and  rolled 
his  fortune  up  to  over  fifty  millions. 


116  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


ENGAGES    IN    COMMERCE. 

Mr.  Astor  became  art  importer.  At  one  time  his 
store  was  in  South  Street,  near  the  South  Ferry.  After- 
wards he  took  one  on  the  corner  of  Pine  and  Pearl 
Streets,  which  still  stands.  During  the  war  of  1812 
he  was  largely  engaged  in  the  tea  trade.  He  also 
fitted  out  several  blockade  runners  for  Gibraltar.  An 
eminent  minister  of  this  city  at  that  time  wras  a  clerk 
in  Mr.  Astor's  store.  He  relates  the  following  incident 
A  schooner  was  purchased,  and  was  to  be  loaded  and 
cleared  in  twenty-four  hours.  It  was  a  case  that 
required  despatch.  The  whole  force  of  the  establish- 
ment was  at  work,  Mr.  Astor  among  them.  The  load- 
ing began  on  Saturday  morning.  At  ten  o'clock  at 
night  Mr.  Astor  said  to  the  company,  "  Now,  boys,  all 
knock  off  Come  early  to-morrow  morning,  and  we'll 
finish  up  .the  work."  Turning  to  the  clerk,  whom  he 
knew  to  be  a  pious  young  man,  he  said,  "  You  need  not 
come  to-morrow.  I  am  glad  we  have  one  Christian 
among  us.  You  go  to  church,  and  pray  for  us  poor 
sinners  hard  at  work."  He  then  had  vessels  plough- 
ing every  sea.  His  ships,  freighted  with  furs,  sailed  to 
France,  England,  Germany,  Kussia  and  China.  He 
knew  intimately  the  various  markets  to  which  he 
traded.  He  gave  directions  in  the  smallest  details 
about  distributing  his  cargoes  and  exchanging  com- 
modities in  foreign  markets,  and  these  instructions  had 
to  be  minutely  obeyed. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  117 


SITE   OF  THE   ASTOR   HOUSE. 

At  an  early  day  Mr.  Astor  began  to  invest  in  real 
estate.  Just  before  he  died,  some  one  asked  him  if  he 
had  not  too  much  real  estate.  He  replied,  "  Could  I 
begin  life  again,  knowing  what  I  now  know,  and  had 
money  to  invest,  I  would  buy  every  foot  of  land  on  the 
Island  of  Manhattan."  From  beating  felts  on  Gold 
Street,  Mr.  Astor  came  up  to  Broadway,  on  the  corner 
of  Vesey.  A  small  brick  mansion,  which  he  built,  was 
filled  with  furs  from  the  cellar  to  the  attic.  His  office 
was  on  the  Vesey  Street  side,  where  either  himself  or 
wife  were  always  found  to  attend  to  customers.  The 
fashionable  residences  of  New  York  were  below  Vesey 
Street.  His  house  was  considered  far  up  town.  On 
the  block  above  Mr.  Hone  built  an  elegant  mansion, 
of  which  he  was  very  proud.  The  Park,  opposite,  was 
surrounded  by  a  mean  wooden  fence.  Against  this,  in 
the  morning,  Mr.  Hone  would  lean,  toy  with  his  watch- 
key,  which  was  attached  to  a  leather  chain,  and  admire 
his  house.  Mr.  Hone  was  one  of  the  rich  men  of  New 
York,  and  was  not  a  little  proud  of  his  wealth.  One 
morning  Mr.  Astor  went  over  to  where  Mr.  Hone  was 
standing,  and  said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Hone,  you  are  a  suc- 
cessful merchant  and  a  good  citizen.  You  have  a  fine 
wife  and  some  nice  children.  You  have  a  snug  little 
property,  and  are  building  a  comfortable  house.  I 
don't  see  why  you  are  not  just  as  well  off  as  if  you 
were  rich."  It  was  not  an  easy  matter  to  purchase  the 
square  on  which  the  Astor  House  now  stands.  But  it 
was  accomplished.  The  English  style  of  the  Astor 
House  has  always  attracted  attention.  Mr.  Astor 


118  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

visited  England,  and  obtained  the  plans,  in  person,  on 
which  that  celebrated  hotel  was  built. 


HIS    STYLE    OF   BUSINESS. 


The  day  of  his  death  he  was  the  master  of  his  busi- 
ness. He  was  very  exact  in  keeping  his  contracts. 
He  had  a  dispute  one  day  with  his  wood-sawyer.  He 
kept  an  open  fire  of  hickory  wood,  and  laid  in  a  large 
supply.  The  wood-sawyer  charged  him  three  and  six- 
pence a  cord,  while  the  market  price  was  three  shillings. 
Mr.  Astor  refused  to  pay  a  penny  above  the  regular 
price.  While  he  was  disputing  with  the  sawyer,  some 
ladies  came  in  to  solicit  a  donation  for  a  charitable 
institution.  He  paused  in  the  debate,  heard  the  plea 
of  the  ladies,  ordered  Bruce,  his  confidential  clerk,  to 
draw  up  a  check  of  five  hundred  dollars,  signed  it  and 
handed  it  to  the  ladies,  bowed  them  out,  and  then 
renewed  the  dispute  with  the  laborer,  by  whom  he  did 
not  choose  to  be  cheated  out  of  a  single  penny. 

MAKES   FIVE   THOUSAND    DOLLARS. 

The  German  Benevolent  Society  made  Mr.  Astor  an 
honorary  member.  They  sent  him  regular  notices  of 
all  the  meetings,  though  he  never  attended  any.  About 
two  years  before  he  died  he  added  a  codicil  to  his  will, 
leaving  the  society  twenty  thousand  dollars.  As  his 
custom  was,  he  notified  the  trustees  that  he  had  done 
so.  All  the  persons  who  were  mentioned  in  his  will 
were  notified  of  the  fact  as  soon  as  the  thing  was  done. 
The  German  Society  was  embarrassed.  They  chose  a 
committee  to  wait  upon  Mr.  Astor,  to  see  if  he  would 
not  anticipate  his  death  by  giving  them  the  twenty 


IN  NEW    YORK.  119 

thousand  dollars.  Mr.  Astor  shook  his  head  when  the 
committee  made  the  proposal,  and  declined  to  do  it. 
?  You'll  get  the  money,"  the  old  man  said.  They 
pressed  the  matter,  and  finally  Mr.  Astor  said,  "I'll 
give  you  twenty  thousand  dollars  in  Pennsylvania  five 
per  cent,  bonds."  These  bonds  were  at  a  discount  of' 
twenty-five  per  cent.,  which  would  leave  the  society 
but  fifteen  thousand  dollars.  The  committee  asked 
permission  to  consult  with  the  society  before  they 
closed  the  contract.  They  were  instructed  to  make 
better  terms  with  Mr.  Astor  if  they  could.  They 
represented  to  him  the  hardship  of  losing  five  thou- 
sand dollars,  while  it  could  make  no  difference  to 
Mr.  Astor.  He  ended  the  interview  by  quietly  saying, 
"  It  is  in  the  will,  gentlemen,  and  I  can  easily  strike  it 
out."  They  closed  with  the  proposal.  Bruce  was 
called  for,  the  bonds  were  delivered,  and  with  a  face 
radiant  with  pleasure,  leaning  on  his  staff,  he  tottered 
into  the  back  office,  chuckling  as  he  went,  to  tell 
William  that  he  had  "  made  five  thousand  dollars  that 
morning." 

A    BRIDAL    GIFT. 

He  had  a  favorite  grand-daughter.  He  made  her 
promise  that  she  would  not  get  married  without  his 
consent.  One  day  the  young  miss  called  upon  him, 
kissed  him,  and  told  him  she  was  going  to  be  married. 
"  Is  he  likely  ?  "  said  the  old  man.  "  Does  he  love  you, 
and  do  you  love  him?"  These  questions  being  an- 
swered in  the  affirmative,  he  sent  her  away,  and  told 
her  to  come  and  see  him  in  one  week.  In  the  mean 
time  Mr.  Astor  made  diligent  inquiries  about  the 
young  fellow.  They  were  all  satisfactory.  On  the 


120  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

day  appointed  the  young  lady  appeared,  and,  blushing 
behind  her  grandfather's  chair,  she  was  in  ecstasies  as 
she  heard  him  say,  "  It  is'  all  right.  You  may  get 
married.  Come  and  see  me  the  morning  you  are  mar- 
ried. Come  alone,  and  I  will  make  you  a  present." 
She  kept  the  appointment,  and  received  a  check  of 
two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars. 


HIS   LIBERALITY. 


For  vagrants,  street  begging,  and  miscellaneous  calls, 
Mr.  Astor  had  no  ear.  His  gifts,  however,  were  munif- 
icent, and  constant.  He  sent  William  to  Europe  to 
perfect  himself  in  travel.  He  gave  him  permission  to 
spend  just  as  much  money  as  he  chose.  He  was  absent 
a  year.  To  a  personal  friend  he  expressed  surprise  that 
William  should  have  spent  so  little.  "  He  spent  only 
ten  thousand  dollars,"  said  the  old  man.  "I  thought 
he  would  certainly  spend  fifty  thousand  dollars." 

Attached  to  his  house  on  Broadway,  above  Prince, 
was  a  narrow  alley  leading  to  his  kitchen.  This 
kitchen  was  as  large  as  that  of  a  hotel.  A  supply  of 
beef  and  bread  was  always  kept  on  hand  for  the  poor. 
Families  known  to  be  needy,  who  were  cleanly  in  per- 
son, orderly  in  their  behavior,  who  came  and  went 
quietly,  were  daily  supplied  with  food.  He  kept  a 
regular  account  of  the  disbursements  in  this  matter,  as 
much  as  if  he  were  keeping  a  hotel. 

For  any  service  rendered  he  paid  a  liberal  compensa- 
tion. To  his  agent,  Mr.  Smith,  who  had  the  full  charge 
of  all  his  real  estate,  he  paid  a  salary  of  five  thousand 
dollars,  and  gave  him  the  use  of  an  elegant  house  on 
Fourteenth  Street,  well  furnished,  and  contracted  to 
pay  this  sum  during  Mr.  Smith's  natural  life. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  121 


ASTOB   LIBRARY. 

His  munificent  gift  of  three  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars  to  found  a  Free  Library  for  the  City  of  New 
York  is  well  known.  The  founding  of  that  library  was 
one  of  those  incidental  things  that  occasionally  turn  up. 
A  member  of  the  bar  called  on  Mr.  Astor,  to  see  if  he 
would  subscribe  towards  a  Free  City  Library.  A  plan  to 
establish  such  an  institution  had  already  been  mapped 
out.  He  took  time  to  consider  the  proposal,  and  an- 
nounced his  determination  to  found  the  library  himself. 
He  chose  the  site  to  benefit  a  friend,  whose  property 
would  be  enhanced  in  value  by  that  location.  He 
purchased  a  large  amount  of  real  estate  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  library,  on  part  of  which  he  built  an  elegant 
residence  for  his  son  William,  and  left  the  remainder 
to  enlarge  the  library,  which  has  been  done. 

THE   MORLEY    LEASE. 

In  the  closing  part  of  the  last  century,  Trinity  Church 
leased  to  one  Mr.  Morley  two  hundred  and  forty  lots 
of  land,  in  the  location  now  known  as  the  vicinity  of 
Spring  Street  and  Varick.  Mr.  Morley,  failing  to  keep 
the  conditions  of  the  lease,  it  reverted  to  Trinity. 
Aaron  Burr  was  then  a  member  of  the  legislature.  He 
was  appointed  chairman  of  a  committee  whose  business 
it  was  to  examine  into  the  affairs  of  Trinity  Church. 
That  corporation  can  legally  receive  an  income  from 
its  property  of  twelve  thousand  dollars.  Holding  a 
property  valued  by  no  one  at  less  than  fifty  millions, 
and  exceeding  probably  a  hundred  millions  of  dollars, 
it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  the  vestry  can  keep  their 


122  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

income  down  to  the  legal  mark.  No  investigation  was 
made  by  Mr.  Burr's  committee,  but  Burr  came  into 
possession  of  the  Morley  lease.  On  it  he  obtained 
thirty-eight  thousand  dollars  from  the  Manhattan 
Bank.  The  murder  of  Hamilton  so  incensed  the  peo- 
ple, that  Burr  had  to  flee  from  the  country.  He  sold 
his  lease  to  Mr.  Astor,  subject  to  the  Manhattan  Bank 
mortgage.  He  received  from  Mr.  Astor  about  thirty- 
two  thousand  dollars.  Mr.  Astor  immediately  re-leased 
the  property  in  lots.  The  Morley  lease  was  to  run 
until  1867.  Persons  who  took  the  Astor  leases  sup- 
posed that  they  took  them  for  the  full  term  of  the 
Trinity  lease.  Mr.  Astor  was  too  far-sighted  and  too 
shrewd  for  that.  Every  lease  he  gave  expired  in  1864, 
leaving  him  the  reversion  for  three  years,  putting  him 
in  possession  of  all  the  buildings  and  improvements 
made  on  the  lots,  and  giving  him  the  right  of  renewal. 
When  the  fact  was  discovered,  the  lessees  tried  to  buy 
from  Mr.  Astor  the  three  years'  reversion.  He  was, 
offered  as  high  as  a  thousand  dollars  a  lot.  He  refused 
all  offers  except  in  one  case,  which  I  shall  notice  in 
another  place.  Eeturning  from  his  exile,  Burr  at- 
tempted to  regain  possession  of  the  property  that  he 
had  sold  to  Mr.  Astor.  The  attempt  was  futile.  The 
legal  instruments  that  secured  trie  property  were  too 
carefully  drawn,  and  Burr  abandoned  the  contest,  and 
died  in  poverty.  This  property  was  a  great  source  of 
wealth  to  Mr.  Astor. 


IN  NEW   Y.O&K.  123 


HOW   HIS    WEALTH   WAS   LEFT. 

The  amount  of  Mr.  Astor's  wealth  has  never  been 
known  outside  of  his  family.  Much  of  it  was  never 
included  in  his  will.  He  clreaded  a  lawsuit  growing 
out  of  the  settlement  of  his  estate  among  his  heirs,  and 
he  prevented  it  by  taking  the  matter  into  his  own 
hands.  The  property  left  to  his  children  and  relatives 
he  deeded  to  them  outright  before  his  death,  making 
the  consideration  in  each  case  one  dollar.  For  this 
sum  he  sold  the  Astor  House  to  William,  and  other 
property  equally  valuable  he  sold  for  the  same  sum. 
There  could  be  no  contest  when  the  property  was 
bought  outright.  By  the  sales,  much  of  the  most 
valuable  part  of  his  property  was  not  named  in  his 
will  at  all.  He  owned  valuable  real  estate  in  other 
lands,  the  titles  to  which  were  recorded  abroad.  He 
made  a  valuable  donation  to  his  native  village,  which 
he  held  in  fond  remembrance  till  he  died.  His  prop- 
erty has  been  estimated  at  various  sums,  by  persons 
equally  capable  to  judge.  None  place  it  lower  than 
fifty  millions  of  dollars,  some  carry  it  up  as  high -as  one 
hundred  and  fifty  millions.  During  the  last  few  years 
of  his  life  he  added,  from  the  accumulations  of  his  prop- 
erty, five  hundred  thousand  dollars  every  six  months 
in  codicils  to  his  will. 

MR.   ASTOR   AT   EIGHTY-ONE. 

To  the  close  of  life  he  was  a  man  of  business,  care- 
ful and  jealous  of  his  mercantile  honor.  On  Prince 
Street,  just  out  of  Broadway,  he  built  a  one  story  fire- 
proof brick  building,  where  he  transacted  his  immense 


124  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

business.  A  Mr.  Pell,  a  coach-builder,  had  his  establish- 
ment on  the  corner  of  Wall  Street  and  Broad.  He  was 
a  great  friend  of  Mr.  Astor.  When  Mr.  Pell  made  a 
fashionable  coach,  Mr.  Astor  generally  took  a  ride  in  it 
to  try  the  springs.  This  was  in  the  humble  days  of 
Mr.  Astor's  mercantile  career.  As  Mr.  Astor  increased 
in  wealth  their  paths  diverged,  and  after  a  while  they 
saw  nothing  of  each  other.  The  son  of  Mr.  Pell  took 
one  of  the  Astor  leases,  and  when  he  found  that  it  ex-» 
pired  in  '64,  he  went  down  to  the  office  to  see  if  he  could 
not  purchase  Mr.  Astor's  three  years'  interest  in  the 
lease.  William  gave  him  a  gruff  and  decided  refusal. 
"  We  don't  want  to  sell,"  was  his  laconic  answer.  As 
the  young  man  was  going  out,  some  one  stepped  up  to 
him,  and  quietly  whispered,  "  See  the  old  man.  Come 
to-morrow  at  precisely  eleven,  and  you  will  find  him 
in."  The  young  man  said  nothing,  but  went  away,  and 
returned  the  next  day  a  little  before  the  hour.  It  was 
very  cold,  and  he  took  a  seat  by  the  fire  in  the  outer 
office.  Promptly  on  the  time  Mr.  Astor  came  in.  He 
walked  very  slowly,  doubled  up,  leaning  on  the  head  of 
his  cane  in  a  stooping  posture,  taking  short  steps,  so 
that  he  rather  scuffed  along  than  walked.  He  sat  down 
and  warmed  himself,  and  then  turning  to  young  Pell,  he 
said,  in  a  pleasant  tone,  "  Young  man,  what  can  I  do  for 
you  ?  "  The  request  was  made.  He  immediately  and 
decidedly  replied,  "  We  don't  wish  to  sell  those  rever- 
sions, young  man.  But  what  might  your  name  be  ?  " 
The  young  man  replied,  «  It  is  Pell."  «  Pell  —  Pell "  — 
said  Mr.  Astor,  "  I  used  to  know  a  man  by  that  name 
once;  he  was  a  dear  friend  of  mine,  but  I  haven't  seen 
him  for  a  great  many  years."  "Yes,"  said  Mr.  Pell,  "that 


IN  NEW   YORK.  125 

man  was  my  father."  "  Your  father  ?  Why,  he  used  to 
give  me  rides  in  his  coaches.  How  I  should  like  to  see 
him  ! "  For  a  moment  Mr.  Astor  was  young  again. 
"  You  shall  have  the  lease,  young  man.  Go  home, 
have  the  papers  drawn,  come  here  at  eleven  o'clock 
precisely,  on  Thursday,  and  I'll  sign  them.  But  don't 
put  in  any  consideration."  The  young  man  was  prompt, 
so  was  Mr.  Astor.  "Have  you  got  the  papers?"  said 
the  merchant.  "Did  you  put  in  the  consideration? 
Well,  let  it  be  one  hundred  dollars.  Have  you  got  the 
money  about  you  ?  Well,  no  matter,  Bruce  will  keep 
the  lease  till  you  come  and  pay.  I've  given  you  two 
thousand  dollars,  young  man.  Don't  you  buy  any 
more,  for  I  shan't  do  it  again.  You  tell  your  father 
that  I  remember  him,  and  that  I  have  given  you  two 
thousand  dollars." 

HIS    RELIGION. 

In  religious  belief  Mr.  Astor  was  a  Lutheran.  He 
was  an  elder  in  the  church  located  on  Nassau  Street, 
near  John.  Here  he  worshipped  till  the  house  was 
sold  and  pulled  down.  He  seldom  attended  church 
after  that,  stating  that  he  was  sold  out  of  house  and 
home.  Rev.  Mr.  Labough  was  his  pastor.  Mr.  Astor 
was  afflicted  with  a  complaint  that  made  it  difficult  for 
him  to  sit  long  at  a  time.  To  a  clergyman  he  said, 
"  Men  think  rne  a  heathen.  I  cannot  sit  in  church.  I 
have  a  painful  disorder  that  prevents  me."  The  first 
Mrs.  Astor,  the  mother  of  his  children,  was  a  member 
in  full  communion  of  the  Grove  Street  Baptist  Church. 
She  was  a  woman  of  great  business  tact,  high  principles, 
and  strong  common  sense.  Her  house  was  always  open 
to  ministers  of  religion. 


126  SUNS-HINE    AtfD    SHADOW 


HIS    CLOSING   HOURS. 

Mr.  Astor  lived  in  a  style  becoming  his  wealth  and 
position.  He  purchased  the  block  on  Broadway,  op- 
posite the  site  now  occupied  by  the  Metropolitan  Hotel. 
His  house  was  large,  and  furnished  in  princely  style. 
His  apartments  were  adorned  by  costly  works  of  art, 
and  the  richest  plate  was  displayed  on  his  table.  He 
had  servants  and  attendants,  some  of  whom  came  from 
foreign  nations.  His  dinners  were  princely.  He  dressed 
in  good  taste,  was  fluent  in  speech,  very  intelligent,  met 
all  comers  with  a  genial  smile,  and  was  prompt  and 
decided  in  all  he  did.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  do  business 
with  him.  The  closing  weeks  of  his  life  were  passed  at 
his  country-seat  at  the  foot  of  Eighty-eighth  Street,  on 
the  East  River.  Under  the  old  trees  on  his  lawn,  and 
in  his  splendid  mansion,  he  dispensed  an  elegant  hospi- 
tality to  his  friends.  He  had  traced,  with  great  interest, 
the  career  of  the  young  clerk  whom  he  would  not 
allow  to  work  for  him  on  the  Sunday  many  years 
before.  He  knew  well  that  the  hour  of  dissolution  was 
approaching.  He  sent  for  his  former  clerk,  now  an 
eminent  minister  of  religion  in  the  city.  The  party 
who  had  charge  of  the  door  did  not  know  that  the 
minister  had  been  sent  for  by  the  dying  merchant. 
Thinking  the  minister  wanted  money,  he  closed  the 
door  upon  him,  and  would  not  allow  him  to  enter. 
The  dying  wish  of  Mr.  Astor  was  not  gratified, and  what 
he  wished  to  breathe  into  the  ear  of  the  man  of  God 
was  buried  with  him  in  his  coffin.  In  appearance, 
Mr.  Astor  was  of  medium  height,  quite  stout,  with  a 
full  German  face,  radiant  with  intelligence  and  kindness; 


>;..   INI  NEW  YOBK.  127 

In  social  life  he  was  modest  and  unassuming,  but  in 
trade  an  autocrat  in  bearing.  He  died  in  the  city  of 
New  York  on  the  25th  day  of  March,  1848.  A  marble 
bust  in  the  Astor  Library  preserves  his  benign  features. 
A  small  engraving,  quite  imperfect,  is  the  only  repre- 
sentation of  the  great  merchant  that  now  exists. 


128  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XIII. 

BLACK-MAILING    AS    AN    ART. 

METHODS    OP     RAISING   MONEY.  —  A   WIDOWER   BLACK-MAILED.  —  A    MINISTEB 

FALLS     AMONG     THIEVES.  —  BLACK-MAILERS     AT     A     WEDDING. A      BRIDE 

CALLED      ON.    —   ANOTHER       MODE.    —    BLACK-MAILER       FOILED.    —    HOTEL 
REGISTERS    AND    BLACK-MAIL. 

METHODS    OF   RAISING   MONEY. 

NEW  YORK  is  full  of  adroit  rogues.  Men  and  women 
abound  here  who  live  by  their  wits.  Hiding  themselves 
in  the  multitude  of  our  people,  watching  their  chances 
and  their  victims,  they  are  seldom  detected.  Black- 
mailing is  reduced  to  a  system.  It  is  carried  on  by 
street-walkers,  stragglers  on  the  pavement,  loungers 
about  hotels,  keepers  of  dance-cellars,  panel-thieves,  and 
criminals  of  all  grades.  In  cases  of  black-mailing,  where 
relief  is  at  once  sought,  the  detective  force  are  often 
able  to  restore  the  money.  Usually  the  victim  crimi- 
nates himself  so  far  that  he  is  unwilling  to  appear  before 
the  courts;  so  that  if  the  money  is  restored,  which  is 
seldom  the  case,  the  rogue  escapes.  Men  come  to  New 
York  to  see  "  the  elephant."  They  are.  not  fond  of  ex- 
hibiting their  wounds  if  they  are  struck  by  his  trunk. 
Rural  gentlemen,  who,  from  the  steps  of  their  hotel, 
follow  a  bland  stranger  who  offers  to  show  them  the 


IN   NEW   YORK.  129 

sights  of  the  city,  are  not  willing  to  tell  how  they  lost 
their  watches  or  purses.  They  had  rather  lose  their 
property  than  have  their  names  get  into  the  paper. 
The  black-mailers  understand  this ;  and  when  they  rob 
a  man,  they  so  commit  the  victim,  that  he  can  make  no 
complaint  to  the  authorities  without  dishonoring  him- 
self. 

A    WIDOWER    BLACK-MAILED. 

A  man  about  fifty -five  years  old  came  from  the  rural 
districts  to  spend  a  little  time  in  the  city.  He  was 
wealthy,  respectable,  and  the  father  of  two  children. 
He  selected  his  quarters  up  town.  Among  the  boarders 
was  an  attractive  California  widow.  The  widow  and 
widower  soon  became  quite  intimate.  Both  seemed 
captivated.  By  mutual  consent  a  suite  of  rooms  was 
taken,  handsomely  furnished,  and  occupied  by  the 
parties.  A  few  days  after  the  removal,  the  gentleman 
was  greeted  with  an  unpleasant  surprise  on  entering 
his  room.  A  stranger  sat  in  his  chair,  who  announced 
himself  as  the  husband  of  the  woman,  and  demanded 
heavy  damages  for  dishonor  done  to  his  name.  The 
old  man  was  frightened  nearly  out  of  his  wits.  Had  he 
gone  to  the  police  force,  and  put  himself  in  their  hands, 
all  would  have  been  well.  But  he  did  as  most  men 
do  under  such  circumstances  —  he  offered  a  large  sum 
of  money  to  hush  the  matter  up,  keep  it  out  of  the 
papers,  and  be  allowed  to  depart.  He  paid  the  money, 
settled  the  bills,  left  the  elegant  furniture,  packed  his 
trunks,  and  departed. 

He  was  not  lost  sight  of,  however,  for  a  moment. 
The  parties  knew  their  man,  and  his  means ;  knew  his 
standing,  and  the  value  he  put  on  his  good  name.  He 
9 


130  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

was  dogged  constantly ;  he  was  drawn  upon  for  large 
sums  of  money;  he  was  threatened  with  exposure,  till, 
driven  to  desperation  and  almost  beggary,  he  did 
what  he  should  have  done  at  first — went  to  the  police 
headquarters  and  made  a  clean  breast  of  it.  The  chief 
of  the  detectives  took  the  case  into  his  own  hands.  On 
a  new  demand  for  money  being  made,  the  chief  opened 
a  negotiation,  through  a  friend,  to  see  if  a  settlement 
could  not  be  made,  so  that  the  victim,  by  paying  a 
certain  sum,  might  be  free  from  further  annoyance. 
The  chief  worked  up  the  husband.  He  turned  up  too 
conveniently  not  to  be  a  rogue.  He  was  tracked  to 
Boston,  where  he  had  a  wife  and  children  living.  The 
Boston  marriage  was  established.  The  black-mailers 
were  met  at  the  appointed  hour.  The  sum  demanded 
was  agreed  upon,  and  the  chief  was  ready  to  pay  the 
money  as  soon  as  the  parties  signed  a  receipt.  The 
adroit  rogues  declined  to  put  pen  to  paper,  and  the 
detective  declined  to  pay  the  money  which  he  held  in 
his  hand.  Blustering  and  threatening  seemed  to  have 
no  effect  on  the  resolute  friend.  The  handle  of  a  pistol 
conveniently  peeping  out  from  the  detective's  bosom, 
and  the  cool  manner  of  the  negotiator,  indicating  that 
he  knew  how  to  use  it,  admonished  the  black-mailers 
that  an  attempt  to  get  the  money  by  force  would  not 
succeed.  The  receipt  was  signed.  The  chief  coolly  put 
it  into  his  pocket,  with  the  money  which  he  held  in  his 
hand.  The  rogues  knew  at  once  he  was  a  detective. 
The  principal  one  claimed  the  woman  as  his  wife,  and 
said  he  had  a  lawful  right  to  settle  the  case  as  he 
pleased.  "  If  that  woman  is  your  wife,"  said  the  de- 
tective, "  then  I'll  trj  you  for  bigamy,  and  send  you  to 


IN  NEW  YORK.  131 

Sing  Sing."  Amid  much  blustering  and  many  threats 
he  was  taken  to  the  Tombs.  He  was  found  to  be  an 
old  offender.  Graver  crimes  rose  up  against  him.  He 
was  tried,  and  sent  to  Sing  Sing.  The  victim  was  re- 
lieved from  further  extortion.  His  money,  gone,  could 
not  be  regained.  He  returned  to  his  rural  home  satis- 
fied with  his  New  York  experience.  „ 

A   MINISTER   FALLS   AMONG   THIEVED. 

On  Broadway,  below  Fourteenth  Street,  stood  a 
church  that  at  one  time  was  one  of  the  most  fashiona- 
ble in  the  city.  The  congregation  was  wealthy  and 
large,  the  minister  eloquent  and  popular.  The  belles 
of  the  city,  with  the  young  and  the  fashionable,  crowded 
the  church  when  the  pastor  filled  the  pulpit.  In  the 
full  flush  of  his  popularity,  when  a  pew  could  not  be 
hired  at  any  price,  when  any  salary  would  have  been 
paid  to  him  that  he  demanded,  the  minister  disappeared. 
Quite  late  on  Saturday  night  the  vestry  received  a 
letter  from  the  rector,  dated  off  Sandy  Hook.  The 
letter  tendered  the  rector's  resignation,  and  announced 
that  he  had  sailed  that  day  at  noon  in  one  of  the  Cu- 
nard  steamers  for  Europe.  The  parish  were  surprised 
and  alarmed.  The  whole  affair  was  a  painful  mystery. 
Here  was  a  minister,  settled  over  a  flourishing  and 
liberal  charge,  writh  a  fine  church  and  parsonage,  a 
church  crowded  with  the  elite  of  the  city,  with  a  salary 
equal  to  any  demands  he  might  make,  with  the  best 
singing  in  the  city,  and  all  the  popular  appliances,  who 
had  suddenly  resigned,  and  privately  left  the  country, 
to  go  no  one  knew  where. 

The  story  is  a  romance.    The  explanation  came  after 


132  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  minister  had  completed  his  European  tour.  At 
midnight  the  door-bell  of  his  parsonage  was  violently 
rung.  Going  tc  the  window,  the  minister  saw  a  man 
standing  on  his  door-stone,  and  he  demanded  his  busi- 
ness. He  came  with  a  message,  he  said,  from  a  dying 
woman.  Hastily  dressing  himself,  the  good  man  came 
to  the  door  and  received  the  message.  Just  around  the 
block  was  a  poor  woman,  and  she  was  dying.  Her  only 
treasure  was-a  babe.  She  could  not  die  in  peace  unless 
her  babe  was  baptized.  If  his  reverence  would  come 
to  her  dying  pillow,  and  administer  that  sacrament,  the 
blessing  of  a  poor  dying  woman  would  be  his  reward. 
It  was  much  to  ask,  and  at  midnight  too,  but  his  great 
Master,  who  loved  the  poor,  would  not  have  denied 
such  a  request  as  this. 

His  humane  and  religious  sympathies  were  aroused, 
and  the  minister  followed  the  messenger.  Common 
prudence  would  have  said,  "  Take  a  policeman  with 
you.  Call  up  a  friend,  and  get  him  to  bear  part  in  the 
ceremony."  But,  dreaming  of  no  peril,  he  went  on  his 
way  to  do,  as  he  thought,  his  Master's  will.  He  was 
soon  in  a  dissolute  region,  in  a  street  notorious  for  its 
uncleanness.  The  messenger  knocked  at  a  heavy  gate, 
that  closed  up  a  narrow,  dark  alley.  It  opened  im- 
mediately, and  slammed  behind  the  parties  like  a 
prison  door.  Through  a  long,  narrow,  and  unwhole- 
some entry,  that  seemed  to  be  an  alley-way  covered, 
the  parties  took  their  way.  They  passed  up  a  narrow 
staircase,  broken  and  rickety.  Lewd  women  were 
passed  on  the  stairs.  Dark-featured  and  villanous-look- 
ing  men  seemed  to  crowd  the  place.  With  his  sacred 
vestments  on  his  arm,  and  his  book  of  service  in  his 


IN  NEW   YORK.  133 

hand,  the  minister  was  ushered  into  a  dark  and  un- 
wholesome-looking room.  The  door  was  closed  behind 
him,  and  locked.  A  dim  candle  on  the  table  revealed 
the  outline  of  a  dozen  persons,  male  and  female,  of  the 
most  abandoned  and  desperate  class.  His  inquiry  for 
the  sick  woman,  and  the  child  to  be  baptized,  was 
greeted  by  shouts  of  laughter.  He  knew  he  was  a 
victim.  He  demanded  the  reason  for  this  outrage. 
He  was  informed  that  his  friends  who  had  invited  him 
there  wanted  money.  His  standing  and  character  were 
well  known.  He  was  in  one  of  the  most  notorious 
houses  in  New  York ;  his  midnight  visit  to  that  place 
was  well  known,  and  could  easily  be  proved.  If  he  paid 
one  thousand  dollars,  all  would  be  well.  If  not,  his  ruin 
was  certain.  Instead  of  defying  the  villains,  calling  on 
the  police,  or  confiding  in  his  congregation,  he  thought 
he  could  hush  the  matter  up.  He  might  have  known 
that  it  would  all  come  out,  and  that  every  dollar  he 
paid  would  be  used  as  evidence  against  him,  or  as 
means  to  extort  more.  But  he  was  thoroughly  fright- 
ened ;  would  not  have  the  thing  known  for  the  world ; 
his  hand  was  in  the  lion's  mouth,  and  he  must  draw  it 
out  as  easily  as  he  could ;  so  he  gave  his  obligation  to 
pay  the  money  promptly  at  noon  the  next  day,  which 
he  did.  Of  course  new  demands  were  made  from  time 
to  time.  He  was  dogged  in  the  streets.  Suspicious- 
looking  men  stopped  to  speak  with  him  on  the  corners. 
Notorious  men  rang  his  door-bell.  Mysterious  notes, 
from  ignorant,  low-bred,  and  vicious  persons,  —  as  the 
spelling  and  language  showed,  —  came  to  his  hands, 
and  into  the  hands  of  his  family.  The  poor  man  was 
nearly  distracted.  He  paid  away  his  own  money,  and 


134  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

borrowed  till  his  reputation  suffered.  The  threat  of 
exposure  hung  over  him  like  an  ominous  sword  held  by 
a  hair.  In  a  moment  of  desperation  he  decided  to 
leave  the  country,  which  he  did,  to  the  astonishment 
and  regret  of  his  friends. 

On  his  return  from  Europe,  the  rector  settled  in 
Massachusetts,  over  a  small  rural  parish.  He  was  soon 
tracked  to  his  country  home.  Black-mailing  was  re- 
newed. His  old  terror  came  upon  him.  Again  he  ac- 
ceded to  the  extortion.  The  police  of  New  York  at 
length  came  to  his  relief.  In  searching  for  other  game, 
they  came  upon  proof  that  this  minister  was  in  the 
hands  of  black-mailers.  Letters  were  found  containing 
information  of  his  whereabouts,  how  to  terrify  him, 
what  sums  to  demand,  and  at  what  time  his  salary  was 
due.  He  was  relieved  from  his  pursuers.  The  large 
sums  he  had  paid  were  not  refunded.  His  spirits  were 
broken,  and  he  has  never  recovered  his  position.  I  saw 
him  not  long  since  in  Canada.  He  holds  a  subordinate 
position,  and  is  preaching  to  a  small  parish.  He  will 
die  a  victim  of  black-mailing. 

BLACK-MAILERS   AT   A    WEDDING. 

A  fashionable  wedding  is  a  harvest  season  for  black- 
mailers, especially  if  the  bridegroom  has  been  known 
as  a  fast  young  man.  No  bank  keeps  a  better  account 
of  the  whereabouts  and  standing  of  its  depositors,  than 
do  black-mailers  of  the  whereabouts,  standing,  and 
movements  of  their  victims.  A  wedding  among  New 
York  high  life  is  talked  about.  Invitations  are  greedily 
seized.  The  elite  are  all  agog.  On  the  morning  of 
the  day  previous  to  the  wedding,  a  lady  comes  to  the 


IN  NEW  YORK.  135 

store,  and  asks  for  the  young  man.  Her  business  is 
announced  as  important.  She  must  see  the  young  gen- 
tleman. The  "  must "  is  emphatic.  At  such  a  time, 
when  all  are  so  sensitive,  and  when,  as  is  often  the 
case,  a  fortune  hangs  on  the  bridal  wreath,  it  is  im- 
portant to  have  no  scenes.  A  thrill  through  the  frame 
of  the  young  gentleman  called  for,  the  hurrying  back 
of  his  blood  from  the  face  to  the  heart,  tells  that  his 
time  has  come.  He  goes  to  the  interview  as  the  ox 
goes  to  the  slaughter.  Be  the  claim  real  or  bogus, 
hush-money  is  generally  paid. 

A    BRIDE   CALLED    ON. 

A  call  is  not  unfrequently  made  at  the  home  of  the 
young  lady  to  be  married.  It  is  a  woman  that  calls,  in 
a  shabby-genteel  array,  to  excite  sympathy.  The  call 
is  made  a  week  or  ten  days  before  the  wedding.  Every 
step  is  consummately  taken,  and  tells  in  the  right  di- 
rection. The  young  lady  is  called  for  by  the  woman, 
who  seems  to  possess  a  wounded  spirit.  Her  appear- 
ance, the  tone  of  her  voice,  the  expression  of  her  face, 
bespeak  one  who  has  been  greatly  wronged,  or  who 
has  some  great  sorrow  at  heart.  The  acting  is  con- 
summate. Of  course  the  young  lady  is  not  at  home  to 
strangers.  She  then  asks  if  the  young  man  is  in ;  if 
it  is  true  that  he  is  going  to  be  married  ;  if  any  one 
can  tell  her  where  he  can  be  found — questions  intended 
to  create  anxious  inquiry  at  the  breakfast  table :  "  Who 
can  that  woman  be  ?  What  can  she  want  of  Charlie  ? 
Why  did  she  ask  so  particularly  about  his  being  mar- 
ried?" The  frightened  maiden  runs  to  her  lover,  and 
says,  "  0,  Charlie,  there  was  a  woman  here  this  morn- 


136  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

• 

ing  for  you !  She  seemecT  so  poor  and  sad !  She 
wanted  to  know  where  you  could  be  found.  She 
wanted  to  know  if  you  were  to  be  married  soon.  Who 
is  she  ?  What  can  she  want  of  you  ?  "  A  nice  prepa- 
ration this  for  the  visit  of  the  black-mailer  on  Charlie 
at  the  store. 

A  bolder  step  is  not  unfrequently  taken.  As  the 
bridal  company  are  enjoying  themselves  in  an  up-town 
first-class  residence,  an  emphatic  ring  announces  an 
impatient  comer.  The  bridegroom  is  asked  for,  and 
the  footman  bade  to  say  that  a  lady  wants  to  see  him. 
The  imperious  air  of  the  woman  plainly  tells  the  foot- 
man, "If  he  refuses  to  see  me  there'll  be  trouble." 
The  footman,  well  acquainted  with  high  life  in  New 
York,  knows  well  what  the  visit  of  the  woman  means. 
He  has  the  honor  of  the  family  in  his  charge.  He 
whispers  the  request  of  the  woman  to  the  startled 
bridegroom.  But  what  can  be  done  ?  The  woman  is 
notorious,  and  well  known.  She  understands  her  busi- 
ness, and  is  unscrupulous.  Threats  and  entreaty  will 
be  alike  unavailing.  Ten  men  could  not  put  her  off 
of  that  step-stone.  She  would  cling  to  that  iron  railing 
with  the  strength  of  a  maniac.  She  would  rouse  the 
whole  neighborhood  by  her  screeches,  accusations,  and 
blasphemies.  The  party  would  break  up  in  excitement. 
The  scandal  would  run  through  all  New  York ;  the 
papers  would  be  full  of  it;  the  police  might  take  her 
away,  but  she  would  rend  the  air  with  her  tears  and 
strong  crying.  All  these  considerations  are  taken  into 
the  account  by  the  black-mailers.  A  private  settle- 
ment is  usually  made,  and  the  unseasonable  visitor 
departs. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  137 


ANOTHER  MODE. 

The  announcement  in  the  papers  of  marriage  in  high 
life,  at  the  residence  of  the  bride's  father,  does  more 
than  give  information  to  the  curious.  It  is  a  bugle-call 
to  black-mailers.  A  young  husband,  just  admitted  a 
partner  with  the  father-in-law,  whose  repute  is  without 
a  stain,  whose  success  in  life  depends  upon  an  unblem- 
ished character,  is  overwhelmed  with  the  threat  that 
unless  a  sum  qf  money  is  paid  at  a  given  time,  an  in- 
famous charge  shall  be  made  against  him.  An  unman- 
ly fear,  a  cowardly  dread  of  being  accused  of  a  crime 
never  committed,  a  wish  to  shield  from  sorrow  the 
young  being  he  has  just  led  to  the  altar,  often  lead  a 
young  man  to  yield  to  the  demands  of  black-mailers  if 
they  will  take  themselves  off  They  depart  for  a  time, 
only  to  return  to  renew  the  demand,  making  the  one 
payment  a  reason  for  asking  more. 

BLACK-MAILER   FOILED. 

I  know  a  young  man  of  marked  business  ability. 
He  was  superintendent  of  a  Sunday  school  and  a  young 
partner  in  an  important  house.  His  marriage  gave  him 
a  fine  social  position.  About  three  months  after  his 
return  from  his  wedding  trip,  a  woman  called  upon 
him  at  his  store.  She  seemed  to  be  quite  well  ac- 
quainted with  him,  and  told  her  errand  in  a  busi- 
ness-like style.  She  wanted  five  hundred  dollars,  and 
must  have  it.  He  could  give  it  to  her.  If  he  did, 
all  would  be  well.  If  he  did  not,  she  would  make 
trouble  in  his  store,  and  trouble  in  his  family.  People 
would  believe  her,  suspicion  would  attach  to  him,  and 


138  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

he  could  never  shake  it  off  She  gave  him  a  limited 
time  to  make  up  his  mind ;  placed  her  card  in  his  hand, 
and  departed.  The  young  man  had  sense  and  pluck. 
He  went  to  a  detective,  and  placed  the  matter  in  his 
hands.  The  detective  force  is  an  institution  in  New 
York.  Its  members  are  shrewd,  cool,  talented  and  ef- 
ficient. They  are  everywhere,  and  in  all  disguises.  They 
represent  all  professions.  They  are  unknown  to  rogues, 
and  are  therefore  successful  in  their  efforts  to  detect 
criminals  and  to  relieve  their  victims.  Assuming  the 
role  of  a  friend,  the  detective  called  upon  the  woman. 
She  was  young,  intelligent,  well-dressed,  seemingly 
modest.  She  professed  to  be  adverse  to  a  dissolute  life, 
and  charged  that  she  had  stepped  aside  under  the 
solemn  promise  of  marriage.  She  gave  times  and 
places  when  she  met  the  young  man,  and  her  candor 
and  modesty  would  have  deceived  any  one  but  a 
detective.  She  had  rooms  in  a  reputable  house,  and 
gave  the  name  of  her  employer.  With  this  statement 
the  conspiracy  was  revealed.  One  of  the  times  men- 
tioned, the  young  man  was  in  Europe  during  the  whole 
year  on  business  for  the  house.  The  second  time 
specified,  he  was  absent  from  the  city  the  whole  month 
on  his  wedding  tour,  with  the  family  of  his  senior 
partner.  The  room  where  the  interview  was  held  was 
borrowed  for  the  occasion  of  a  casual  acquaintance, 
who  knew  nothing  of  the  disreputable  character  of  the 
woman.  The  plot  was  blown  into  the  air.  The  wo- 
man confessed  her  conspiracy,  gave  the  names  of  her 
associates,  and  was  marched  off  to  the  Tombs. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  139 


HOTEL   REGISTERS   AND    BLACK-MAIL. 

Some  of  the  newspapers  print  the  arrivals  at  the 
principal  hotels  daily.  These  arrivals  are  used  for 
black-mailing  purposes.  Letters  are  written  to  stran- 
gers in  the  city,  and  placed  in  their  hotel  box.  These 
letters  pretend  to  be  on  business,  or  to  revive  old 
acquaintance,  or  the  writers  profess  to  know  the  family. 
A  friend  of  mine,  a  stranger  in  the  city,  found  in  his 
box  at  the  hotel  a  letter,  of  which  this  is  a  copy  :  — 

"  SIR  :  Seeing  your  arrival  in  the  paper  to-day,  and 
thinking,  perhaps,  you  were  a  stranger  in  the  city,  and 
might  want  genial  company,  I  have  ventured  to  send 
you  my  card. 

"  Yours,  respectfully, 

(6  » 

Exposures,  warnings,  fines,  imprisonments,  do  little 
towards  breaking  up  black-mailing.  Victims  from  the 
country  are  too  numerous,  the  reward  is  too  dazzling, 
the  chances  of  escape  too  certain,  to  turn  the  adroit  and 
bold  rogues  from  a  trade  that  yields  so  rich  a  revenue. 


140  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XIV. 
SUNDAY    IN    NEW    YORK. 

SABBATH   MORNING.  —  CHURCH-GOERS.  —  PLEASURE-GOERS.  —  RELIGIOUS   PE- 
CULIARITIES. —  FOREIGNERS   AND    SUNDAY. 

SABBATH   MORNING. 

THE  quiet  of  a  Sabbath  morning  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  city  is  in  marked  contrast  to  the  confusion  and  hub- 
bub of  the  week.  Crossing  the  street  is  a  dangerous 
effort  to  life  and  limb  near  the  South  Ferry  or  at 
Bowling  Green  during  any  week  day.  On  Sundays  it 
is  as  quiet  as  a  cathedral.  Broadway,  on  which  Old 
Trinity  stands  sentinel  at  one  end,  and  aristocratic 
Grace  at  the  other,  is  swept  clean  and  is  deserted.  An 
occasional  coach,  bringing  to  the  hotels  a  Sabbath 
traveller,  or  a  solitary  express  wagon  loaded  down  with 
baggage,  is  all  that  breaks  the  solitude.  The  broad, 
clean  pavement  of  Broadway  glistens  with  the  morning 
sun,  and  is  as  silent  as  the  wilderness.  The  revellers, 
gamblers,  the  sons  and  daughters  of  pleasure,  who  ply 
their  trade  into  the  small  hours  of  the  morning,  sleep 
late ;  and  the  portions  of  the  city  occupied  by  them  are 
as  silent  as  the  tomb.  The  sanitary  blessings  of  the 
Sabbath  to  a  great  city  are  seen  in  all  the  lower  part 
of  New  York.  Laboring  classes  cease  from  toil,  loiter 
about,  well  shaved  and  with  clean  shirts,  and  smoking 


IN  NEW  YORK.  141 

their  pipes.  Children  from  the  Idwest  dens,  the  foulest 
cellars,  the  darkest  alleys,  come  on  to  the  sidewalk  with 
an  attempt  at  cleanliness,  with  their  best  robes,  or  an 
effort  to  mend  their  dilapidated  appearance  by  a  little 
bit  of  ribbon  or  a  rude  ornament.  Newsboys,  with 
their  faces  washed,  their  hair  combed  with  their  fin- 
gers, offer  their  papers  in  subdued  tones.  In  a  quiet 
voice  the  bootblacks  ask,  "  Black  your  boots  ? "  and 
exhibit  their  own  shoes  polished  out  of  respect  to  the 
day.  The  utmost  quiet  prevails  along  the  docks. 
Piers  and  wharves  are  swept  clean,  and  the  silence  of 
a  pestilence  pervades  these  noisy  marts  of  trade.  The 
sailors  do  their  morning  work  quietly  in  a  holiday  rig. 
On  the  North  and  East  Kivers  are  moored  thousands 
of  vessels,  every  one  of  which  carries  its  flag  at  its 
mast-head.  Bethel  churches  and  floating  chapels  are 
open  to  seamen.  The  dram-shops  make  a  compromise 
with  the  day  by  sanding  floors,  putting  their  employees 
in  clean  shirts,  and  closing  up  one  half  of  their 
shutters. 

CHURCH-GOERS. 

The  churches  are  generally  well  attended  in  the 
morning.  As  the  bells  call  to  prayer,  New  York  comes 
to  the  pavement,  elegantly  dressed,  as  for  a  soiree  or  a 
matinee.  The  streets  present  an  attractive  and  gay 
appearance.  The  cars  are  crowded  with  people  on 
their  way  to  their  religious  homes,  without  regard  to 
distance  or  locality.  Wealthy  church-goers  come  out 
with  their  dashing  teams.  Their  splendid  outfits  appear 
to  great  advantage  on  a  beautiful  Sabbath  morning. 
Churches  the  most  crowded  in  the  morning  have  a 
poor  attendance  in  the  afternoon.  But  for  the  name 


142  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

of  it,  most  of  them  might  as  well  be  closed  the  rest  of 
the  day.  New  York  boasts  about  a  half  dozen  sensa- 
tion preachers,  who  have  a  hold  on  the  masses,  and  can 
draw  a  second  audience.  But  for  "  gospel  preaching," 
as  it  is  called,  one  sermon  a  day  is  as  much  as  our  peo- 
ple care  to  hear,  and  more  than  they  inwardly  digest. 
Clustering  together  in  a  fashionable  locality,  within 
sight  and  sound  of  each  other,  are  more  costly  churches 
than  can  be  found  on  any  spot  in  the  world.  Most  of 
these  churches  have  come  from  down  town.  Selling 
their  property  in  lower  New  York  at  a  great  price, 
they  all  want  a  fashionable  up-town  location.  Leaving 
other  parts  neglected,  these  churches  crowd  on  to  one 
another.  Two  or  three  of  them  are  on  one  block.  The 
singing  and  preaching  in  one  church  is  heard  in  an- 
other. Costly  and  elegant,  most  of  them  are  thinly 
attended.  Looking  on  their  rich  adornments,  and 
inquiring  the  price  of  pews,  one  is  at  a  loss  to  conceive 
where  people  of  moderate  means  go  to  church  in 
this  city. 

PLEASURE-GOERS. 

The  sermon  over,  the  dinner  digested,  then  comes 
pleasure.  The  morning  quiet  of  lower  New  York  gives 
place  to  revelry.  Funerals,  attended  by  a  military  or 
civic  procession  and  bands  of  music,  are  kept  till  Sun- 
day afternoons,  if  the  corpse  has  to  be  packed  in  ice. 
Central  Park  is  crowded.  Fashionable  people  turrTout 
in  immense  numbers.  Everything  that  can  go  on  four 
legs  is  engaged  of  liverymen  for  Sunday  in  advance. 
An  afternoon's  drive  costs  from  ten  to  fifty  dollars. 
The  same  cars  that  convey  people  to  morning  worship 
convey  those  who  do  not  own  teams  to  their  afternoon 


*         IN  NEW  YORK:  143 

pleasures.  Theatres  of  the  lower  order  are  opened, 
Public  gardens,  concert  saloons,  and  lager-beer  enclo- 
sures are  crowded.  Dancing,  bowling,  drinking,  carous- 
ing, gambling,  occupy  the  crowd. 

The  removal  of  the  down-town  churches  leaves  an 
immense  population  to  spiritual  neglect  and  indiffer- 
ence. The  strongholds  of  piety  are  levelled,  and  on 
their  foundations  Marnmori  holds  her  high  carnival. 
Where  once  the  aristocratic  lived  are  reeking  tene- 
ment-houses, and  the  day  is  given  up  to  revelry  and 
dissipation. 

RELIGIOUS    PECULIARITIES. 

If  a  minister  has  a  rich  and  fashionable  congregation, 
success  is  certain,  though  his  talents  are  feeble  and  his 
gifts  small.  He  may  be  an  able  and  popular  pulpit 
orator,  and  he  will  generally  fail  if  he  depends  upon  the 
popular  ear.  Over  one  of  our  congregations,  the  most 
fashionable  in  the  city,  where  it  is  difficult 'to  get  a  seat 
at  any  price,  a  minister  has  been  settled  for  years,  on  a 
high  salary,  who  could  not  get  a  call  to  a  common 
country  congregation.  His  intellect  is  not  above  the 
average,  his  feeble  voice  does  not  half  fill  the  house, 
his  utterance  is  choked  and  muddy,  he  has  a  jerky 
delivery,  and  his  manners  are  forbidding  and  unat- 
tractive. On  the  other  hand,  men  come  to  New  York 
who  bring  with  them  immense  local  popularity.  Having 
succeeded  elsewhere,  they  expect  to  carry  New  York 
by  storm.  They  are  brought  here  to  rescue  waning 
congregations,  to  fill  an  empty  house,  to  sell  costly 
pews.  The  reputation  they  bring  avails  them  nothing. 
A  man  must  make  his  own  mark  in  the  city.  Men 
who  have  been  eminently  successful  in  other  places 


144  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW  . 

do  not  succeed  at  all  here.  Men  of  talent,  genius, 
eloquence,  are  preaching  in  halls,  preaching  in  little 
chapels,  preaching  to  small  and  humble  congregations, 
preaching  on  starving  salaries,  who  would  make  their 
mark  elsewhere.  But  New  York  is  very  fascinating, 
and  men  hold  on.  » 

Not  long  since  one  of  our  religious  societies  held  its 
anniversary.  It  secured  a  popular  New  England  minis- 
ter to  preach,  one  who  fills  any  house  in  his  own  vicin- 
ity. A  commanding  church  was  selected,  and,  to  ac- 
commodate the  crowd  who  were  expected,  extra  seats 
were  put  in  the  aisles,  vestibule,  and  on  the  platform. 
The  evening  came,  with  the  preacher,  but  the  crowd 
came  not.  In  the  face  of  the  vacant  chairs  and  empty 
extra  seats  the  services  were  conducted  with  a  deaden- 
ing effect.  New  Yorkers  did  not  know  the  preacher, 
and  would  not  go  to  hear  him. 

FOREIGNERS    AND    SUNDAY. 

The  foreign  population  in  the  city  is  immense. 
Every  nationality  is  represented.  Should  the  great 
bell  of  the  City  Hall  clang  out  its  peal,  and  draw  the 
population  that  live  around  it  to  its  doors,  a  man  stand- 
ing on  the  steps  could  speak  to  as  motley  a  group  as 
Peter  addressed  on  the  day  of  Pentecost.  The  Jews 
occupy  whole  streets,  and  drive  out  other  nationalities. 
Their  stores  are  open  on  Sunday,  and  a  large  part  of 
them  keep  neither  their  own  Sabbath  nor  ours.  The 
Germans,  Irish,  Italians,  Portuguese,  abound.  Noisy 
trade  goes  on  in  the  quarters  where  foreigners  live, 
and  the  Sabbath  is  filled  with  noisy,  wanton,  and 
drunken  violators.  Places  of  amusement  are  many, 


IN  NEW  YOKK.  145 

and  dancing,  drinking,  and  revelry,  guided  by  heavy 
brass  bands,  girdle  the  city.  The  great  mass  of  the 
foreign  population  attend  no  church.  The  Sabbath  of 
the  Continent  is  becoming  common  in  the  city.  The 
observance  of  the  day  grows  less  and  less.  Pleasure- 
seekers  are  more  open,  and  their  number  is  increased  by 
the  fashionable  and  influential.  Every  wave  of  foreign 
emigration  lessens. the  dry  land  of  religious  observance. 
Churches  are  swept  away,  and  none  arise  to  take  their 
place.  The  infidel  German,  the  imdevout  Jew,  the 
illiterate  foreign  population,  led  by  an  omnipotent 
press,  unite  to  create  a  popular  sentiment  that  is  push- 
ing out  gradually,  but  surely,  the  observance  of  the 
Sabbath  and  the  attendance  on  public  worship.  The 
Sabbath  of  the  Hollanders  promises  to  be  a  thing  of 
the  past. 

10 


146       SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


XY. 

DETECTIVE  FORCE  OF  NEW  YORK. 

ITS    ORIGIN.  —  QUALIFICATIONS     OF    A    DETECTIVE.  —  OLD    HAYS.  —  HOW   THE 
DETECTIVES    DO    THEIR   WORK.  —  WHY    ROGUES    GO    CLEAR. 

ITS    ORIGIN. 

THE  system  of  detectives  is  not  old.  In  former  times 
the  idea  of  a  sharp  criminal  officer  was  expressed  in 
the  adage,  "  Set  a  rogue  to  catch  a  rogue."  The 
modern  theory  is,  that  integrity,  tact,  industry,  are  the 
best  qualifications  of  a  good  detective.  For  many 
years  there  existed  a  set  of  men  in  London  known  as 
Bow  Street  officers/  They  were  remarkably  shrewd, 
were  more  than  a  match  for  the  sharpest  villains, 
and  could  ferret  out  crimes  and  outwit  the  shrewdest 
rogues.  "When  the  London  Metropolitan  Police  system 
was  adopted,  an  order  of  men  were  introduced,  called 
detectives.  This  force  was  composed  of  men  who 
seemed  to  have  a  gift  for  detecting  crime.  They  could 
scent  out  a  murder,  and  track  the  perpetrator  over 
oceans  and  across  continents.  They  could  unravel  the 
mysteries  of  a  robbery,  and  bring  to  light  things  of 
darkness.  Under  Mr.  Matsell,  in  this  city,  a  small  force 
was  gathered,  and  were  known  as  shadows,  because 
they  silently  and  persistently  followed  their  victim.  In 


IN  NEW  YORK.  147 

1857,  the  detectives,  as  a  distinct  corps,  were  created. 
The  force  is  small  —  about  twenty-five  men.  It  is  very 
efficient  Captain  Young,  the  chief,  who  has  had  many 
years7  experience,  is  cool,  keen,  brave,  clear-headed.  He 
is  so  adroit  in  catching  rogues  and  restoring  stolen 
goods,  that  many  persons,  after  their  property  has  been 
returned  to  them,  go  to  the  commissioners  and  demand 
that  Captain  Young  shall  be  tried  for  complicity.  They 
do  not  believe  that  a  man  could  bring  back  stolen 
property  unless  he  has  some  share  in  the  original 
theft. 

QUALIFICATIONS    OF   A   DETECTIVE. 

Good  detectives  are  rare.  An  unblemished  character 
is  indispensable,  for  the  temptations  are  many.  A  detec- 
tive must  be  quick,  talented,  and  possess  a  good  mem- 
ory ;  cool,  unmoved,  able  to  suppress  all  emotion ;  have 
great  endurance,  untiring  industry,  and  keen  relish  for 
his  work ;  put  on  all  characters,  and  assume  all  dis- 
guises ;  pursue  a  trail  for  weeks,  or  months,  or  years ; 
go  anywhere  at  a  moment's  notice,  on  the  land  or  sea ; 
go  without  food  or  sleep ;  follow  the  slightest  clew  till 
he  reaches  the  criminal;  from  the  simplest  fragment 
bring  crime  to  light ;  surround  himself  with  secrecy  and 
mystery  ;  have  great  force  of  will ;  a  character  without 
reproach,  that  property  and  persons  may  be  safe  in  his 
hands ;  with  a  high  order  of  intellectual  power.  The 
modern  detective  system  is  based  on  the  theory  that  pu- 
rity and  intelligence  has  a  controlling  power  over  crime. 
Detectives  must  be  pure  men,  and,  like  Caesar's  wife, 
be  above  suspicion  when  they  come  out  from  the  ordeal 
through  which  they  have  to  pass.  To  obtain  the  right 
kind  of  men,  the  force  has  often  to  be  sifted  and  purged 


148  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


OLD  HAYS. 

So  the  old  High  Constable  of  New  York  was  known. 
He  was  the  first  real  detective  of  the  city.  He  was  a 
short,  thick-set,  stout-built  man,  looking  as  if  nature 
intended  him  for  a  giant,  and  altered  her  mind.  He 
had  a  round,  stolid  face,  of  the  hue  of  mahogany  —  a 
genuine  Jewish  physiognomy.  He  was  an  honest  man, 
of  high  moral  and  religious  character,  and  a  consistent 
member  of  the  Scotch  Presbyterian  Church,  then  wor- 
shipping in  Grand  Street.  He  lived  in  the  time  when 
the  guardians  of  the  city  were  watchmen.  With  their 
old  camlet  cloaks  and  huge  lanterns,  they  prowled 
about  the  city  at  night,  and  were  known  as  leather- 
heads,  from  the  leather  cap  they  wore.  Hays  had  a 
small  office  in  the  Tombs.  He  was  a  regular  autocrat, 
and  held  the  monopoly  of  catching  thieves.  He  was 
about  the  only  police  officer  in  the  state  who  did  any 
business.  He  was  really  a  great  man.  So  successful 
was  he  as  a  detective,  that  his  fame  spread  over  the 
whole  civilized  world.  He  was  as  well  known  in 
London  as  in  New  York.  He  was  a  terror  to  evil- 
doers. "  Old  Hays  is  after  you!"  would  send  juvenile 
scamps  off  at  any  time.  He  could  track  a  rogue  by 
instinct.  Men  believed  he  was  in  league  with  criminals 
all  over  the  world,  and  that  his  religious  profession  was 
a  sham  and  a  blind.  If  a  robbery  was  committed  in 
Boston,  Philadelphia  or  Baltimore,  Liverpool  or  London, 
the  matter  was  put  into  the  hands  of  Old  Hays.  Fif- 
teen years  after  his  death,  letters  came  from  the  chief 
of  police,  London,  pertaining  to  criminals  and  crime, 
addressed  to  "Jacob  Hays,  High  Constable  of  New 
York." 


IN   NEW   YORK.  149 


HOW   THE   DETECTIVES    DO    THEIR    WORK. 

Crime  is  not  only  systematized,  but  classified.  Each 
adroit  rogue  has  a  way  of  doing  things  which  is  as 
personal  as  a  man's  handwriting.  We  have  really  few 
great  men  ;  great  orators,  men  of  mark,  distinguished 
authors,  or  men  of  towering  success,  are  few.  If  a 
princely  donation  is  made,  or  a  noble  deed  done,  and 
the  name  withheld,  the  public  at  once  point  out  the 
man  —  it  would  be  so  like  him.  Bad  talented  men  are 
few.  Adroit  rogues  are  not  many.  Men  capable  of  a 
dashing  robbery,  a  bold  burglfiry,  or  great  crimes,  do 
not  abound.  If  a  store  is  broken  open  in  New  York,  a 
bank  robbed  in  Baltimore,  or  a  heavy  forgery  in  Boston, 
the  detectives  will  examine  the  work  and  tell  who  did 
it.  As  painters,  sculptors,  artists,  engravers,  have  a 
style  peculiar  to  themselves,  so  have  rogues.  A  Chi- 
cago burglar,  a  safe-breaker  from  Boston,  a  bank-robber 
from  Philadelphia,  a  New  York  thief,  have  each  their 
own  way  of  doing  things.  They  cannot  go  from  one 
city  to  another  without  observation.  If  a  crime  is 
committed,  and  these  gentlemen  are  round,  detection 
is  sure  to  follow.  The  telegraph  binds  the  detective 
force  together  in  all  parts  of  the  Union.  A  great  crime 
is  telegraphed  to  every  leading  city.  When  an  adroit 
rogue  leaves  the  city,  his  whereabouts  are  sent  over  the 
wires.  The  detective  on  his  track  is  the  gentlemanly- 
looking,  affable  personage  with  whom  he  has  been 
chatting  in  the  railroad  car.  The  rogue  lands  in  New 
York,  and  the  friendly  hand  that  helps  him  up  the 
gang-plank,  or  off  the  platform,  is  that  of  a  detective. 
A  keen  eye  is  upon  him  every  moment  till  he  is  locked 


150  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

up  or  departs  from  the  city.  When  he  leaves,  the  car 
is  not  out  of  the  station-house  before  the  telegraph 
announces  to  some  detective  far  away  the  departure 
and  the  destination.  His  haunts  are  known,  his  associ- 
ates, the  men  who  receive  stolen  goods,  and  his  partners 
in  crime. 

WHY   ROGUES    GO    CLEAR. 

The  detectives  often  recover  goods  and  money  while 
the  criminals  escape.  People  wonder  why  the  criminals 
are  not  brought  to  punishment.  The  first  duty  of  the 
officer  is  to  bring  the  offender  to  trial.  But  this  cannot 
always  be  done.  The  evidence  is  often  insufficient. 
The  next  best  thing  is  to  secure  the  money  or  property. 
Many  robberies  are  committed  in  places  of  ill-repute. 
Parties  are  compromised.  Victims  from  the  country, 
who  are  respectable  at  home,  do  not  like  to  read  their 
names  in  the  newspaper.  Hundreds  of  thousands  of 
dollars  are  annually  returned  to  their  owners  through 
the  detectives,  which  would  have  been  lost  without 
their  vigilance. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  151 


XVI. 
A    NIGHT    AMONG    THE    DETECTIVES. 

HEADQUARTERS. — THE    ARREST    OF   A   PICKPOCKET. AN    OLD    MAN    IN    TROU- 
BLE.—  A    MINISTER     IN     TROUBLE.  A     SEA     CAPTAIN     IN     DIFFICULTY.  — 

BURGLAR     DETECTED     BY     A     BUTTON.  —  A    SHADOW    ON   THE    PATH.  —  PRI- 
VATE   DETECTIVES.  —  HUMANITY   OF   DETECTIVES.  —  THE    OTERO   MURDER. 

HEADQUARTERS. 

.IN  the  elegant  marble  building  on  Mulberry  Street-, 
where  the  Metropolitan  Police  force  centre,  there  will 
be  found  the  headquarters  of  the  detectives.  Though 
it  is  under  the  charge  of  the  general  superintendent, 
the  detectives  are  an  independent  body  within  the 
police  force.  The  chief,  Captain  John  S.  Young,  has 
been  many  years  at  the  head  of  this  department.  He 
is  a  heavy-built,  stocky  person,  with  an  immense  head 
and  face,  sandy  hair,  somewhat  curly,  a  stolid  and 
heavy  look,  and  nothing  but  his  eye  indicates  that  he 
is  the  sharpest,  coolest,  bravest,  and  most  adroit  detec- 
tive in  the  civilized  world  to-day.  His  room  is  homely, 
ill-furnished,  and  unsightly.  He  never  seems  to  be 
doing  anything,  or  to  have  anything  on  hand,  or  to  be 
interested  in  anything.  His  associates  in  the  room  —  a 
dozen  men,  more  or  less,  dressed  in  quite  ordinary  citi- 
zens' clothes  —  lie  round  on  the  benches,  straddle  ,the 


152  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

chairs,  lean  up  against  the  wall,  talking,  smoking,  and 
doing  nothing,  looking  like  a  band  of  idle  loafers  with- 
out* a  purpose.  In  this  group  the  uninitiated  would  fail 
to  recognize  the  company  of  the  most  talented,  perse- 
vering, sharp-sighted,  keen-scented,  and  most  successful 
priminal  detectives  ;  men  who  have  been  in  the 
criminal  business  from  their  boyhood ;  men  who  have 
been  selected  from  hundreds,  and  who  have  been  in 
the  force  for  a  quarter  of  a  century.  They  are  silent, 
suspicious,  secretive.  They  never  talk  of  what  they 
have  on  hand.  Of  the  past  they  will  speak,  of  the 
future  they  have  nothing  to  say.  They  have  incidents 
and  adventures  in  thens  possession  more  thrilling  than 
any  criminal  novel  ever  written.  In  their  room  I 
passed  a  night  not  long  since,  and  learned  from  them 
the  romantic  incidents  that  I  am  about  to  state. 

THE    AKREST    OF   A    PICKPOCKET. 

Said  one  of  the  detectives,  "The  chief  called  for 
me  one  day,  and  put  a  case  in  my  hands,  which  I  was 
required  to  work  up.  A  gentleman  of  the  city,  who 
was  supposed  to  be  worth  a  fortune,  suddenly  failed. 
His  failure  was  a  bad  one,  but  his  honor  was  without  a 
stain.  He  was  guardian  for  two  orphan  children,  and 
took  the  cars  one  morning  for  the  purpose  of  investing 
some  three  thousand  dollars  that  he  held  in  the  name 
of  the  children.  When  he  reached  the  office  up  town, 
where  the  investment  was  to  be  made,  he  found  his 
money  was  gone.  He  had  been  robbed  in  the  cars. 
In  great  distress  he  came  to  the  office,  and  communi- 
cated his  loss  to  the  chief.  He  said,  when  he  was  rich 
his  tale  of  robbery  would  have  been  believed  ;  now 


IN  NEW  YORK.  '  153 

he  was  poor,  it  Would  be  said  that  he  had  robbed  him- 
self. I  examined  the  man  closely,  and  had  no  doubt 
that  his  story  was  a  true  one.  He  had  but  little  light 
to  throw  on  the  robbery.  The  car  was  crowded,  and 
he  stood  on  the  platform.  He  remembered  that  during 
the  passage,  as  a  person  got  out  of  the  car,  a  young 
man  was  thrown  against  him.  He  had  a  dim  recollec- 
tion of  the  person,  thinking  no  wrong  at  the  time. 
Car-robbing  is  very  common,  but  it  is  very  delicate 
business,  and  few  can  do  it  well.  I  had  my  suspicions 
as  to  who  committed  the  robbery.  I  took  a  car  to  go 
down  town.  In  it  was  the  very  person  I  was  in  search 
of.  His  new  clothes,  new  hat/and  boots,  and  watch, 
indicated  that  he  was  flush.  I  stopped  the  car,  touched 
the  young  man  on  the  shoulder,  and  told  him  to  follow 
me.  His  face  crimsoned  in  an  instant,  and  I  knew  that 
I  had  got  my  man.  I  took  him  to  the  station-house, 
and  accused  him  of  the  crime.  I  told  him  that  the  man 
who  had  lost  the  money  would,  in  the  language  of 
pickpockets, '  buff  him  to  death '  if  he  did  not  restore 
the  money  ;  but  if  he  would  '  turn  up  the  money '  he 
might  clear  out.  These  robbers,  all  of  them,  have  ac- 
complices. They  never  can  tell  when  they  '  peach.'  I 
had  no  evidence  that  would  convict  this  person.  No 
judge  would  hold  him  a  minute  on  my  suspicion,  but 
the  thief  did  not  know  that.  He  pulled  off  his  boots*, 
and  the  money  came  back,  all  but  one  hundred  dollars 
which  he  had  spent.  The  grateful  merchant  received 
it  with  tears  of  joy." 


154  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


AN    OLD    MAN   IN   TROUBLE. 

«  Very  few  men  who  come  here  for  relief,"  said  one 
of  the  officers,  "  tell  the  truth.  They  make  up  all  sorts 
of  stories  to  impose  upon  us,  to  save  their  reputation, 
and  to  keep  themselves  out  of  trouble.  If  a  man  tells 
us  the  truth ;  if  he  has  been  robbed  at  a  bad  house, 
and  will  say  so ;  will  give  us  the  number  of  the  house, 
and  describe  the  parties  by  whom  he  has  been  robbed 
or  wronged,  we  can  relieve  him.  We  can  go  on  board 
of  a  train  of  cars  filled  with  hundreds  of  people,  and 
tap  a  pickpocket  on  his  shoulder,  and  say, 6 1  want  to 
see  you,  sir/  and  never  make  a  mistake.  We  can  take 
a  telegraphic  description  of  a  rogue,  and  with  it  walk 
up  Broadway,  where  thousands  are  rushing  along,  pick 
out  our  man  and  march  him  to  the  Tombs,  and  never 
get  the  wrong  person.  One  day  a  sedate-looking  man 
from  the  rural  districts  called  at  our  office.  He  was  a 
merchant,  he  said.  He  came  to  the  city  to  buy  goods. 
He  had  been  robbed  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars,  which 
he  was  to  pay  that  day.  He  was  a  ruined  man  unless 
he  could  recover  his  money.  He  named  the  hotel 
where  he  staid,  and  in  which  he  had'  been  robbed. 
His  room-mate,  a  man  unknown  to  him,  was  asleep 
,when  he  went  to  bed,  and  asleep  when  he  left  the 
room  in  the  morning.  He  had  not  been  out  of  the 
hotel  since  tea,  till  he  discovered  his  robbery.  The 
man  must  have  robbed  him,  and  he  wanted  him  arrested 
at  once.  Captain  Young  was  satisfied  that  the  man 
was  not  telling  the  truth.  He  put  the  case  in  my 
hand,  and  ordered  me  to  work  it  up.  I  went  to  the 
hotel,  and  found  everything  right  there.  The  room- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  155 

mate  was  a  merchant  from  the  west,  of  unquestioned 
integrity.  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  man  had 
not  told  us  the  truth.  I  knew  that  he  had  been  out 
of  the  hotel,  had  been  into  disreputable  company,  and 
had  been  robbed.  I  sent  for  the  victim,  and  he  came, 
accompanied  by  a  friend,  who  promised  to  vouch  for 
his  honesty.  I  said  to  him, '  Sir,  you  have  lied  to  me. 
You  lost  your  money  in  bad  company  by  the  panel 
game.'  At  first  he  denied  it  with  great  vehemence, 
then  he  evaded,  and  finally  confessed.  With  a  slight 
clew  as  to  the  locality,  I  found  the  panel  thief,  and 
brought  back  the  money." 

A   MINISTER    IN   TROUBLE. 

"One  day  some  very  excellent  people  came  to  the 
headquarters  to  complain.  The  city  was  unsafe  for 
respectable  men;  people  could  not  walk  about  the 
streets  without  assault  and  robbery.  It  was  a  pretty 
state  of  things  if  gentlemen  could  not  walk  the  streets 
of  New  York  at  seasonable  hours,  without  being  beaten, 
bullied,  and  robbed,  and  their  life  endangered.  '  And 
what  is  the  matter  now  ? '  said  the  officer.  '  We  are 
respectable  citizens/  said  the  complainers, '  and  officers 
of  a  church.  Our  minister  was  assaulted,  and  beaten, 
and  robbed  last  night  in  one  of  the  streets.  He  came 
over  to  New  York  yesterday  afternoon  on  business. 
He  was  returning  through  Beekman  Street  about  ten 
o'clock.  When  near  Cliff  Street  a  band  of  rowdies  as- 
sailed him,  knocked  him  down,  beat  him,  muddied  and 
tore  his  clothes,  robbed  him  of  his  watch  and  money, 
and  he  reached  his  affrighted  family  almost  dead.' 
The  case  was  put  into  our  hands.  The  night  on  which 


156  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  assault  was  said  to  have  taken'  place  was  a  beauti- 
ful, bright  moonlight  evening.  The  place  of  assault 
was  so  near  the  station-house,  that  the  cry  of  distress 
would  have  been  heard  by  the  captain  at  his  desk.  At 
that  time  of  night,  a  man  would  have  been  as  safe  on 
Beekman  Street  as  on  Broadway.  It  so  happened  that 
two  of  our  officers  were  on  that  spot  within  five  minutes 
of  the  time  the  assault  was  said  to  have  taken  place, 
conversing  on  matters  that  detained  them  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes.  I  was  satisfied  that  no  assault  had  taken 
place,  that  no  robbery  had  been  committed ;  that  the 
whole  story  was  trumped  up  to  hide  some  disgraceful 
conduct  in  which  the  party  said  to  have  been  wronged 
was  engaged. 

"  With  this  impression,  I  sent  to  the  minister..  He 
was  greatly  annoyed  that  his  people  had  taken  any 
notice  of  the  matter,  or  brought  it  to  the  attention  of 
the  authorities.  I  told  him  it  had  been  brought  to  our 
attention  ;  that  we  were  censured  for  neglect  of  duty, 
and  that  the  fame  of  the  city  -  suffered  •  that  we  in- 
tended to  probe  the  matter  to  the  bottom;  that  we 
intended  to  follow  him  every  step  that  he  had  taken 
that  afternoon,  from  the  time  he  left  home  till  he  re- 
turned. We  would  know  all  his  companions,  and  all 
the  company  he  had  kept  that  day.  I  told  him  his 
story  was  an  improbable  one ;  that  it  was  impossible 
that  the  robbery  could  have  occurred  at  that  time  or 
place ;  the  night  was  too  light,  the  hour  was  too  early, 
it  was  too  near  the  station-house,  and  more  than  that, 
two  of  our  captains  were  on  the  spot  at  that  time,  and 
they  knew  the  story  was  not  true.  If  he  had  a  mind 
to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  and  tell  the  facts  as  they 


IN  NEW  YORK.  157 

were,  I  would  keep  his  name  from  the  public ;  if  not,  I 
would  make  a  thorough  investigation,  and  publish  his 
name  to  the  world.  He  was  greatly  agitated,  blamed 
his  friends  for  meddling  in  the  matter,  began  to  cry, 
and  at  length  made  a  clean  breast  of  it.  He  had  been 
drinking  that  afternoon,  went  where  he  ought  not  to 
go,  and  was  robbed  of  his  money  and  his  watch.  He 
must  account  for  his  situation,  did  not  want  to  be  dis- 
graced, and  so  had  trumped  up  the  story  he  told  to  his 
elders.  The  affair  was  hushed  up." 

A    SEA    CAPTAIN   IN   DIFFICULTY. 

"  The  harbor  police  notified  us,"  said  one  of  the  detec- 
tives, "  that  a  ship  was  lost  off  Sandy  Hook  by  fire.  As 
the  case  was  reported,  there  were  some  things  about  the 
loss  that  did  not  look  right.  The  next  day  the  papers 
blazed  with  an  account  of  a  bold  robbery.  It  was  said 
that  a  sea  captain  lost  a  large  sum  of  money  at  Bar- 
n urn's.  The  captain  was  said  to  have  been  peculiarly 
unfortunate.  He  lost  his  ship  by  fire  off  Sandy  Hook. 
He  had  just  been  paid  his  insurance,  a  very  large  sum, 
which  he  was  to  take  to  his  owners  in  New  England. 
He  visited  Barnum's  with  the  money  in  his  pocket,  and 
on  leaving  the  place  it  was  gone.  The  audacious  rob- 
bery flamed  in  every  paper.  The  statements  were 
so  nearly  verbatim,  that  it  was  evident  the  captain 
had  written  them  himself  or  furnished  the  material. 
The  captain  issued  handbills,  offering  a  reward  of  five 
hundred  dollars  for  the  recovery  of  his  money.  The 
handbills  were  circulated  only  among  the  shipping  and 
on  the  wharves.  In  a  few  days  we  received  a  visit 
from  the  captain  at  headquarters.  I  was  put  in  charge 


158  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

of  the  case,  and  I  took  down  the  captain's  statement.  It 
differed  but  slightly  from  those  made  in  the  papers.  I 
was  satisfied  that  he  had  not  been  robbed  at  all.  I 
strongly  suspected  that  there  was  foul  play  in  the  de- 
struction of  his  vessel,  and  that  the  captain  intended  to 
appropriate  the  money.  Making  up  my  mind  how  he 
did  this,  I  directly  accused  him  of  the  fraud,  and  de- 
scribed the  manner  in  which  the  affair  was  done.  He 
supposed  I  knew  the  whole  matter,  although  he  could 
not  imagine  how  I  got  hold  of  it,  and  was  greatly 
excited.  He  was  astounded  when  I  told  him  that  the 
money  was  in  his  inner  vest  pocket,  and  that  if  he  did 
not  take  it  out  at  once  I  should  search  him,  and  he 
must  take  the  consequences.  I  hit  the  thing  exactly. 
He  had  his  money  hid  away  in  the  place  I  had  desig- 
nated. In  tears  and  in  terror  he  brought  forth  the 
money,  which  was  restored  to  the  owner.  We  could 
not  hold  the  man  for  a  criminal  trial  on  the  evidence  we 
had,  and  so  let  him  run.  He  has  never  sailed  from 
New  York  since." 

BURGLAR   DETECTED    BY   A   BUTTON. 

A  large  silk  house  in  New  York  was  robbed  of  silks 
and  velvets  valued  at  many  thousand  dollars.  The 
burglars  hired  an  old  building  adjoining  the  store. 
They  cut  a  hole  through  the  wall,  entered  the  store, 
and  carried  away  the  goods.  The  job  was  a  clean  one, 
and  no  trace  of  the  robber  was  left.  The  police  shook 
their  heads,  and  the  merchants  feared  they  were  ruined. 
One  of  the  shrewdest  detectives  had  the  case  put  into 
his  hands.  He  examined  the  premises  carefully.  The 
hole  in  the  wall  was  a  small  one,  and  the  burglar 


IN  NEW  YORK.   .  159 

squeezed  himself  through  with  difficulty.  In  a  little 
crevice  a  button  was  found  of  a  very  peculiar  fashion. 
A  little  plaster  adhered  to  it,  indicating  that  it  had 
been  rubbed  off  as  the  robber  passed  through.  The 
detective  put  the  button  in  his  pocket.  He  had  a  clew, 
very  slight,  but  still  it  was  a  clew.  There  are  certain 
resorts  in  this  city  for  thieves,  burglars,  and  rogues. 
Here  they  can  be  found  when  off  duty.  Detectives 
pass  in  and  out  among  these  desperate  men.  They 
never  meddle  with  them  on  ordinary  occasions.  They 
are  seldom  disturbed  by  the  desperadoes,  or  resisted  if 
they  make  an  arrest.  It  is  well  known  that  the  detec- 
tives go  armed,  and  have  no  delicacy  in  the  use  of 
weapons.  They  are  selected  for  their  personal  bravery 
no  less  than  for  their  intelligence  and  integrity.  The 
detective,  with  the  button  in  his  pocket,  visited  more 
frequently  these  haunts  than  he  was  accustomed  to. 
The  burglars  knew  something  was  the  matter;  but  as 
the  detective  said  nothing  and  molested  no  one,  the 
rogues  were  not  disturbed.  One  evening  the  detective 
stood  at  the  door  of  one  of  our  low  places  of  amuse- 
ment. A  man  passed  him  who  had  peculiar  buttons 
on  his  coat.  The  buttons  resembled  the  one  the  officer 
had  in  his  pocket.  He  was  sure  that  he  had  found  his 
man.  He  followed  him  to  his  seat,  sat  down  beside  him, 
and  seemed  intent  on  the  play.  He  was  not  so  intent, 
however,  but  that  he  saw  that  the  party  he  was  watch- 
ing had  one  button  less  on  his  coat  than  he  ought  to 
have.  He  immediately  left  his  seat,  went  outside,  and 
made  arrangement  for  aid  to  make  an  arrest.  He  came 
back  to  his  seat,  touched  the  astonished  stranger  on 
the  shoulder,  and  invited  him  outside.  Here  a  corps  of 


160  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

policemen  were  waiting  to  receive  him,  and  he  saw 
that  resistance  was  useless.  Knowing  that  the  man 
could  not  be  held  an  hour  with  no  proof  but  a  button, 
the  detective  set  himself  to  work  to  get  the  goods.  He 
accused  the  man  of  the  robbery,  showed  him  how  it 
was  done,  and  hit  the  case  so  exactly  that  the  burglar 
believed  that  some  of  his  confederates  had  made  a  con- 
fession. He  led  the  officers  to  the  spot  where  the 
goods  were  concealed.  The  party  was  tried  and  sent 
to  the  State  Prison  for  a  term  of  years.  The  button 
did  more  than  that.  The  arrest  of  this  man  put  the 
detectives  on  the  track  of  other  burglars.  They  fol- 
lowed up  the  matter  for  months,  broke  up  a  den  of  the 
most  desperate  robbers,  lodged  many  of  them  in  prison, 
among  whom  was  the  famous  Bristol  Bill  of  England. 

A    SHADOW    ON   THE   PATH. 

Small  sums  of  money  from  time  to  time  were  taken 
from  one  of  our  city  banks.  No  clew  to  the  robbery 
could  be  found.  A  detective  was  consulted :  he  said 
that  the  robber  was  in  the  bank.  A  watch  was  put  on 
all  employees,  but  in  vain.  The  money  continued  to 
go.  The  affair  was  put  into  the  hands  of  a  detective. 
All  unknown  to  the  clerks,  this  officer  visited  the  bank 
at  all  hours,  came  in  various  disguises  and  under  vari- 
ous pretences.  He  was  satisfied  that  the  robber  was  in 
the  bank,  and  he  fastened  on  one  of  the  clerks  as  that 
individual.  He  followed  the  clerk  fourteen  days,  at  the 
end  of  which  a  written  statement  of  the  whereabouts 
of  the  clerk  was  presented  to  the  bank.  It  was  a  per- 
fect curiosity.  The  detective  had  not  lost  sight  of  the 
whereabouts  of  the  young  man  a  single  hour.  The 


IN  NEW   YORK.  161 

clerk  lived  out  of  town.  The  detective  rode  on  the 
cars  with  him  every  day.  He  sailed  on  the  boats, 
walked  in  the  country,  rode  in  the  city.  Every  place 
the  clerk  went  into  was  written  down,  how  long  he 
staid,  what  he  ate  and.  drank,  and  whom  he  talked 
with.  A  description  was  given  of  each  person  he  talked 
with,  the  places  of  amusement  he  visited,  and  what  he 
paid  out.  Among  other  things  the  record  told,  was  his 
visits  to  gaming  and  other  houses;  what  time  he  went 
to  bed  ;  and  twice  he  rose  at  two  in  the  morning,  left 
his  house,  and  met  certain  parties,  who  were  accurately 
described.  How  a  man  could  be  followed  fourteen 
days,  especially  in  the  country,  all  that  he  is  doing  be 
known,  everybody  he  speaks  to  described,  and  the 
man  watched  be  ignorant  of  it,  is  one  of  the  mysteries 
of  the  detective  system.  The  clerk  was  called  into  the 
president's  room  and  charged  with  the  peculations.  He 
was  overwhelmed  with  the  accuracy  with  which  his 
coming  in  and  going  out  were  noted.  He  confessed 
his  guilt.  The  directors  were  merciful,  and  did  not 
subject  him  to  a  "criminal  prosecution. 

PRIVATE    DETECTIVES. 

The  success  of  detectives  in  criminal  matters,  as  a 
part  of  the  police,  has  created  a  private  detective  sys- 
tem, which  is  at  the  service  of  any  one  who  can  pay  for 
it.  It  is  a  spy  system, —  a  system  of  espionage  that  is 
not  creditable  or  safe.  Men  are  watched  and  tracked 
about  the  city  by  these  gentlemen,  and  one  cannot  tell 
when  a  spy  is  on  his  track.  A  jealous  wife  will  put  a 
detective  on  the  track  of  her  husband,  who  will  fol- 
low him  for  weeks  if  paid  for  it,  and  lay  before  her  a 
11 


162  SUNSHINE   AND  SHADOW 

complete  programme  of  his  acts  and  expenditures.  If 
a  man 'wants  a  divorce,  he  hires  a  detective  to  furnish 
the  needed  evidence.  Slander  suits  are  got  up,  con- 
ducted, and  maintained  often  by  this  agency.  Divorce 
suits  are  carried  through  our  courts  by  evidence  so 
obtained.  Sudden  explosions  in  domestic  life,  the  dis- 
solution of  households,  and  family  separations,  originate 
in  this  system.  It  is  not  very  comforting  to  know  that 
such  shadows  are  on  our  paths. 

THE   HUMANITY    OF   DETECTIVES. 

It  is  difficult  to  deceive  a  criminal  detective.  He  can 
read  a  man  at  a  glance.  He  knows  a  bogus  story  from 
a  real  one.  He  can  tell  a  hardened  criminal  from  a 
novice.  Pilferings  were  constantly  going  on  from  one 
of  our  leading  banking  houses.  As  usual  a  detective 
was  called  in.  He  immediately  selected  the  criminal 
in  the  person  of  a  young  clerk,  who  was  bright  and 
talented,  came  from  an  excellent  home  in  the  coun- 
try, and  up  to  that  time  had  borne  an  unblem- 
ished character.  The  banker  scouted  the  idea  that  the 
young  man  was  a  criminal.  The  clerk  was  called  in, 
and  to  the  sorrow  and  astonishment  of  his  employer  he 
confessed  the  thefts.  The  ugly  secret  was  known  only 
to  the  banker  and  the  detective.  The  detective  inter- 
ceded for  the  young  man,  pleaded  his  home  education 
and  principles,  the  sudden  temptations  that  surrounded 
him,  his  capacity  to  make  a  useful  man,  while,  if  he  was 
discharged,  his  crimes  would  become  public,  his  char- 
acter be  ruined,  and  he  become  a  criminal,  to  end  his 
days  in  prison.  Impressed  with  the  representation,  the 
banker  decided  to  give  the  young  man  a  trial.  He 


IN   NEW   YORK.  163 

called  him  again  into  his  presence.  "I  will  not  dis- 
honor you,"  said  the  banker^  "  I  will  not  discharge  you. 
I'll  keep  you,  and  if  you  will  let  me,  will  make  a  man 
of  you."  He  then  showed  him  how  he  carried  on  his 
business;  that  even  a  penny  could  not  be  abstracted 
and  the  cash  account  not  show  it.  The  young  man 
replied,  "  Your  humanity  shall  not  be  misplaced."  The 
other  day  this  young  clerk  was  elected  cashier  of  9 
bank,  and  his  old  employer  became  his  bondsman.  A 
young  man,  bright  and  talented,  placed  in  unusual 
temptation,  was  rescued  from  ruin,  saved  to  his  country 
and  saved  to  himself,  by  the  humanity  and  wisdom  of 
a  detective. 

THE    OTERO    MURDER. 

No  case  was  ever  more  finely  worked  up  than  this. 
A  stranger  was  found  brutally  murdered  in  one  of  the 
parks  of  Brooklyn.  No  clew  to  the  murderer  could  be 
found.  The  chief  gf  the  detective  department  detailed 
his  best  men  on  the  case.  A  pair  of  gloves  were  found 
near  the  place  of  the  murder,  with  a  slash  on  the  back 
of  one  of  them  :  that  was  all.  An  Italian  steamer  was 
to  sail  for  Italy,  and  crowds  of  Italians  were  on  the 
wharf  taking  leave  of  their  friends.  The  detective 
sauntered  down,  for  no  particular  reason.  He  went  on 
the  deck  of  the  vessel,  but  saw  nothing  particular  to 
interest  him,  and  went  again  on  the  dock.  Just  as  he 
was  preparing  to  leave,  he  saw  a  man  coming  towards 
the  vessel.  Before  the  approaching  man  had  come 
near  enough  to  the  officer  to  be  spoken  to,  the  detec- 
tive had  taken  an  inventory  of  him.  There  was  nothing 
about  him  suspicious  but  his  hands.  He  had  on  a  pair 
of  new  gloves  quite  too  large.  The  way  in  which  he 


164  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

held  his  hands  showed  that  something  was  the  matter 
with  them.  His  face  indicated  agony.  The  fatal  gloves 
found  near  the  body  of  the  murdered  man  in  the  park 
were  in  the  pocket  of  the  detective.  He  felt  certain 
that  the  approaching  stranger  had  something  to  do 
with  the  murder.  He  was  at  once  arrested,  his  gloves 
removed,  his  gory  hands  laid  bare,  and  the  cut  was  found 
to  correspond  with  that  in  the  gloves.  The  imprison- 
ment, trial,  and  punishment  are  well  known.  As  a 
part  of  the  great  governing  power  of  the  land,  the 
detective  system  is  powerful,  effective,,  silent. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  165 


XVII. 
THE    TOMBS    ON    SUNDAY    MORNING. 

HOW  THE  PRISON    LOOKS.  — INSIDE    VIEW.  —  THE    COURT-ROOM.  THE   JUDGE 

ON  THE  BENCH.  —  DIVINE  SERVICE. 

HOW    THE   PRISON   LOOKS. 

THE  City  Prison  is  located  on  Centre  Street.  It  oc- 
cupies an  entire  square.  It  is  a  low  building,  looking 
not  unlike  the  Bank  of  England.  The  portion  of  the 
prison  which  appears  to  the  eye  of  the  passer-by  is 
really  the  prison  wall.  The  interior  is  a  quadrangle, 
filled  with  cells,  several  stories  high.  There  are  three 
prisons,  one  for  men,  one  for  women,  and  one  for  boys. 
In  the  yard  directly  in  front  of  the  matron's  apartment 
is  the  site  on  which  the  gallows  stands  when  criminals 
are  hung.  The  prison  is  of  white  granite,  built  in  the 
Egyptian  style  of  architecture,  and  hence  its  name  — 
The  Tombs.  It  was  built  under  a  resolution  of  the  Com- 
mon Council,  passed  in  1835,  when  an  appropriation  was 
made  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars.  It  is 
the  smallest  city  prison  in  America,  and  wholly  inade- 
quate to  the  necessities  of  New  York.  It  contains  various 
court  rooms.  It  is  a  house  of  detention  and  a  jail.  It 
is  a  gloomy  structure,  very  safe,  and  kept  scrupulously 
clean.  The  cells  are  small,  and  are  lighted  by  an 


166  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

oblique  cut  in  the  wall,  which  prevents  the  common 
prisoners  from  looking  out.  Over  the  main  entrance 
are  five  or  six  comfortable  cells  commanding  a  view  of 
the  street  and  all  that  passes.  Here  aristocratic  rogues 
are  confined,  such  as  Jenkins,  Ketchum,  and  other 
rascals  whose  crimes  are  heavy  enough  to  allow  them 
to  live  in  style  while  in  prison. 

INSIDE  VIEW. 

The  Tombs  is  a  suggestive  place  at  an  early  hour  on 
Sunday.  Saturday  night  is  a  "  gala  day  "  with  the  low 
city  population.  With  money  in  the  pocket,  and  no 
work  to  do  the  next  morning,  men  crowd  the  drinking 
places,  break  the  peace,  and  are  arrested  by  the  whole- 
sale. There  is  a  room  in  the  prison  known  as  the 
Bummers'  Cell.  It  will  hold  about  two  hundred.  In  it 
persons  arrested  on  Saturday  night  are  confined.  Here 
are  to  be  found  all  characters,  classes,  conditions,  and 
ages  ;  drunkards,  brawlers,  rioters,  boys,  men,  some  well- 
dressed,  some  on  their  first  spree  ;  well-to-do  mechanics, 
even  respectable  citizens,  with  men  crazed  by  bad  rum, 
or  yelling  with  delirium  tremens,  making  a  Pande- 
monium not  found  outside  of  New  York.  The  court 
room  juts  into  the  prison  yard,  and  the  prisoners  are 
brought  before  the  justice  through  a  rear  door,  and  are 
not  carried  outside  at  all.  The  court  opens  at  six 
o'clock  on  Sunday  morning,  and  a  large  part  of  the 
prisoners  are  discharged.  Many  of  them  are  arrested 
without  cause;  though  the  captain  at  the  station-house 
is  satisfied  of  that  fact,  he  can  discharge  no  one.  He 
must  lock  up  all  who  are  brought  to  him.  The  in- 
nocent and  the  guilty  pass  the  night  in  the  station- 


IN   NEW   YORK.  167 

M 

house,  to  be  discharged,  if  discharged  at  all,  by  the 
justice  the  next  morning. 

THE    COURT-ROOM. 

Precisely  at  six  o'clock  Justice  Dowling  takes  his 
seat  on  the  bench.  He  is  apparently  about  thirty- 
five  years  of  age,  short  in  stature,  with  a  dark  eye  of 
remarkable  brilliancy,  prompt,  and  decided.  Before 
him  are  brought  a  motley  crowd.  He  inquires  into 
each  case,  and  is  judge,  jury,  and  counsel.  He  decides 
at  once,  as  the  prisoners  come  before  him  —  fine,  im- 
prisonment, or  discharge.  He  reads  intuitively  the 
characters,  knows  when  the  parties  are  telling  the 
truth,  has  sympathy  with  the  poor  creatures  who  are 
on  trial,  leans  to  the  side  of  mercy,  stands  between  the 
prisoner  and  the  oppressor,  becomes  an  advocate  when 
the  complainant  is  disposed  to  be  crushing,  and  with 
the  advice  he  gives,  his  warnings  and  admonitions,  and 
even  in  his  judgments,  he  sits  more  as  a  father  than  as 
a  stern  judge.  Nearly  all  the  arrests  are  for  drunken- 
ness, or  for  crimes  growing  out  of  it.  Well-to-do  men 
and  very  good-looking  women  from  the  rural  districts, 
who  come  in  to  see  the  sights,  get  tipsy,  and  visit 
Judge  Dowling  before  they  leave  the  city.  If  parties 
are  drunk,  and  not  disorderly,  they  are  invariably  dis- 
charged. Parties  who  are  arrested  for  the  first  time, 
or  who  are  not  known  to  the  police  as  having  been 
arrested  before,  are  discharged.  Wit,  humanity,  and 
good  nature,  with  strong  common  sense,  unite  in  the 
judge.  Persons  frequently  make  complaints  from  re- 
venge. Women  come  to  complain  of  their  husbands, 
and  husbands  of  their  wives.  The  keen,  discriminating 


168  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

V 

judge  turns  the  tables,  and  often  sends  the  prisoners 
out  of  court,  and  the  complainant  into  the  cells.  When 
the  order  is  given  to  bring  in  the  prisoners,  it  is  a 
sight  to  see.  A  hundred  or  two  come  in  with  a  rush. 
Young  women  in  the  latest  style  of  dress,  a  little  the 
worse  for  a  night  in  the  Tombs  ;  old  men  tattered  and 
torn,  hatless  and  without  shoes,  looking  as  if  they  had 
escaped  from  Bedlam  ;  battered  and  dilapidated  wo- 
men, with  black  or  bloody  eyes ;  women  whose  faces 
have  been  beaten  to  a  jelly  by  their  husbands ;  boys 
of  thirteen,  hardened  as  if  they  had  graduated  from 
prison ;  young  clerks  handsomely  dressed,  with  flashing 
jewelry;  respectable  men,  standing  well  in  society; 
burglars,  thieves,  pickpockets,  black,  tawny,  and  white, 
of  every  nationality,  and  in  every  possible  condition, 
all  huddled  together,  to  answer  for  misdemeanors  or 
breaches  of  the  peace. 

THE   JUDGE   ON    THE   BENCH. 

The  roll  before  the  judge  contains  the  name  of  every 
person  arrested,  or  such  name  as  he  chooses  to  give. 
As  his  name  is  called,  each  party  stands  up  before 
the  judge.  The  officer  gives  his  testimony,  the  prisoner 
tells  his  story,  and  the  judge  decides  whether  the  par- 
ty shall  be  discharged,  be  fined,  or  be  remanded  to 
his  cell  for  trial  at  the  Court  of  Sessions.  It  is  a 
curiosity  to  study  the  face,  hear  the  testimony,  and 
listen  to  the  administration  of  justice.  Two  maidens 
from  the  sidewalk  are  brought  up,  with  their  veils 
down  and  faces  hid.  To  the  stern  command  of  the 
officer  in  charge  the  veil  is  lifted,  if  not,  the  veil  comes 
off,  bonnet  and  all.  The  girls  were  fighting  at  the 


IN  NEW  YORK.  169 

corner  of  the  street,  and  would  not  move  on.  "  You 
have  made  it  up,"  said  the  judge  ;  "  then  shake  hands 
and  go."  An  old  rum-soaked  woman  pleads  for  mercy. 
66  No ;  I'll  send  you  up.  It  will  do  you  good,  and  take 
the  rum  out  of  you."  A  young  girl  of  sixteen  begs  to 
be  allowed  to  go  home ;  she  only  got  a  little  tight,  she 
says.  "  Well,  go,  but  don't  you  come  here  again."  But 
she  does  not  go.  The  next  case  called  brings  her  up 
on  to  the  stand  again.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  to  go  ?  "  said 
the  judge.  "Yes,  sir;  but  I  want  to  take  my  friend 
with  me.  She  was  no  worse  than  I  was."  "  Then  you 
are  not  content  to  go  by  yourself?"  "No,  sir.  It 
won't  hurt  your  honor  to  be  kind  to  the  poor  girl." 
"  Well,  go,  and  don't  you  let  me  see  either  of  you  inside 
this  court  again."  And  away  they  go,  locked  in  each 
other's  arms,  dancing  out  of  the  door.  A  man  com- 
plains of  a  dilapidated-looking  woman  for  breaking 
every  window  in  his  house.  "  Wha*t  did  you  do  to  her 
to  induce  her  to  do  that  ?  "  the  judge  says.  "  Nothing. 
She  wanted  to  stay  in  my  house,  and  there  was  no 
room,  and  I  turned  her  out,  and  then  she  broke  my 
windows."  "  What  sort  of  a  house  do  you  keep  ? " 
"  A  boarding-house."  "  Yes,  I  know  what  sort  of  a 
boarding-house  you  keep.  You  live  on  the  blood  and 
bones  of  these  poor  creatures,  and  when  they  can't 
serve  you  any  longer,  you  kick  them  into  the  street. 
You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  a  great,  big, 
burly  fellow  like  you  engaged  in  such  business. 
She  broke  your  windows,  did  she  ?  She  ought  to 
have  broken  your  head.  If  you  are  ever  brought 
before  me,  as  you  will  be  very  soon,  I'll  send  you  to 
the  penitentiary.  Now  clear  out.  I  won't  hear  a  word 


170  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

from  you."  To  the  criminal  he  says,  "  I  shall  have  to 
commit  you  for  a  breach  of  the  peace.  But  if  you 
break  any  more  windows,  I  shall  send  you  to  the  peni- 
tentiary." A  man  is  arrested  for  beating  his  wife. 
Her  face  is  pummelled  to  a  jelly.  When  asked  for  her 
testimony,  she  says,  with  trembling,  "  I  don't  want  to 
harm  him."  "  Can  you  support  yourself? "  the  judge 
asks.  "  0,  yes,  your  honor.  I  have  to  support  myself, 
and  him  too."  "  Then  I'll  send  him  where  he  won't 
beat  you  any  more,  for  six  months  at  least."  |  A  woman 
brings  a  charge  against  her  husband  for  beating  her. 
The  husband  admits  the  chastisement ;  but  he  has  four 
small  children,  his  wife  gets  drunk  every  day,  and 
pawns  the  bread  off  of  the  table  for  rurn.  "  Well,"  the 
judge  says,  "it  is  a  hard  case,  but  you  mustn't  strike 
your  wife.  If  she  gets  drunk  again  come  to  me.  I'll 
send  her  where  she  can't  pawn  your  bread." 

And  so  the  trials  go  on.  Full  two  thirds  are  dis- 
charged. With  many  it  is  the  first  offence.  With 
others  a  night  in  the  prison  is  punishment  enough. 
Many  belong  to  the  navy  :  they  are  sent  to  their  ships. 
Many  live  in  Jersey,  Hoboken,  Brooklyn,  Harlem,  Mott 
Haven.  They  promise  to  leave  the  city  and  never 
come  back,  and  are  generally  escorted  over  the  river. 
I  doubt  if  anywhere  else  justice  is  meted  out  in  such 
generous  measure  as  in  the  Tombs.  Hardened  villains, 
and  real  scamps  and  rogues,  have  little  chance  ;  but 
the  poor  creatures  who  have  no  one  to  care  for  them 
have  a  friend  in  the  judge.  Often  a  gleam  of  sunshine 
lights  up  the  dreary  room,  and  the  laugh  goes  round. 
He  sends  a  prisoner  out  to  find  the  witness  who  fails 
to  come  and  testify  against  him.  Somebody's  kitchen 


IN   NEW  YORK.  171 

misses  a  cook  on  Sunday  morning.  She  appears  before 
the  judge,  well  dressed,  but  very  much  ashamed.  "  Do 
you  suppose  you  can  find  your  way  home  ?  "  the  judge 
says  to  her.  "  Well,  go,  but  don't  do  that  again."  To 
another,  "  Go ;  but  if  you  come  here  again,  I'll  send  you 
to  the  penitentiary."  So  with  caution,  entreaty,  ex- 
postulation, and  judgment,  justice  is  administered  at 
the  Tombs. 

DIVINE    SERVICE. 

The  Sisters  of  Charity  have  the  women  and  boys 
under  their  charge.  They  have  a  fine  chapel  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  Tombs  all  to  themselves  ;  no  one  is 
allowed  to  disturb  them,  and  visitors  are  excluded. 
The  Protestant  worship  is  without  chapel  or  room  for 
service.  The  preacher  stands  on  the  platform  of  the 
corridor,  and  the  bummers  are  brought  from  their  cell 
and  placed  in  the  lower  part  of  the  long  hall-way. 
Some  sit  on  the  few  benches  that  are  provided,  some 
sit  on  the  stone  floor,  many  stand.  The  prisoners  in 
their  cells  cannot  be  seen  by  the  preacher.  They  can 
hear  or  not  as  they  please.  Company  is  allowed  in 
the  cells  during  service.  The  hum  of  conversation 
goes  on  ;  the  prisoners  read,  smoke,  or  write  ;  walk,  sit, 
or  go  to  bed.  Besides  the  iron-grated  door  which  the 
keepers  lock,  there  is  an  inside,  closely-fitting  wooden 
door,  which  the  prisoners  can  shut  if  they  please,  and 
which  they  often  do.  If  the  preacher  says  anything 
they  do  not  like,  they  throw  it  to,  with  a  slam.  A  little 
shelf,  screwed  on  to  the  iron  railing  of  the  platform, 
makes  the  pulpit.  There  is  no  music,  no  singing,  noth- 
ing attractive.  The  service  is  constantly  interrupted 
by  the  business  of  the  court.  Prisoners  are  called  fora 


172  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

their  names  shouted  out,  and  they  are  brought  down 
from  one  tier  of  cells  to  another,  for  trial  or  discharge. 
The  buzz  of  talk  is  heard,  the  yawning  of  the  weary, 
the  prisoners  mocking  or  imitating  the  preacher,  and 
blending  with  all  this  is  the  yell  of  the  maniac  and 
the  howl  of  the  victim  of  delirium  tremens.  The  con- 
trast between  the  Catholic  service  in  prison  and  the 
Protestant  is  very  marked.  The  Catholic  worship  is 
made  attractive  and  enjoyable.  Pleasing  Sisters  of 
Charity  take  charge  of  the  services,  and  able  priests 
minister  at  the  altar.  The  Protestant  worship  is  as 
bare,  tedious,  and  unattractive  as  can  be  imagined. 
There  is  little  in  it  that  is  tender,  affectionate,  or  win- 
ning. It  can  be,  and  ought  to  be,  at  once  improved. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  173 


XVIII. 

POLICE  FORCE  OF  NEW  YORK. 

THE  OLD  SYSTEM. ATTEMPT  AT  REFORM.  —  UNIFORM  REBELLION.  —  MET- 
ROPOLITAN SYSTEM.  —  GENERAL  SUPERINTENDENTS.  —  THE  POLICE  AT 
THEIR  WORK.  —  THE  HARBOR  PRECINCT.  — HEADQUARTERS.  —  THE  FULL 
POLICE  FORCE.  —  THE  OFFICIAL  STATEMENT. 

§  THE    OLD    SYSTEM. 

No  city  in  the  world,  except  London  and  Paris,  has 
a  police  which,  in  efficiency,  discipline,  and  character, 
equals  that  of  New  York.  It  took  many  years,  many 
experiments,  and  many  changes,  to  perfect  the  system. 
Previous  to  1844,  New  York  was  guarded  by  the  "  Old 
Leather-heads."  This  force  patrolled  the  city  at  night, 
or  that  part  of  it  known  as  the  lamp  district.  They 
were  not  watchmen  by  profession.  They  were  cart- 
men,  stevedores,  porters,  and  laborers.  They  were 
distinguished  by  a  fireman's  cap  without  front  (hence 
their  name,  leather-heads),  an  old  camlet  coat,  and  a 
lantern.  They  kept  out  of  harm's  way,  and  did  not 
visit  the  dark  portions  of  the  city.  Thieves  and  rogues 
were  advised  of  their  locality  by  their  crying  the  hour 
of  the  night.  The  whole  city  above  Fourteenth  Street 
was  a  neglected  region.  It  was  beyond  the  lamp 


174  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

district,  and  in  the  dark.  Under  Mayor  Harper  an 
attempt  was  made  to  introduce  a  municipal  police,  uni- 
formed and  disciplined,  after  the  new  London  system. 
Popular  sentiment  was  too  strong  to  make  the  attempt 
a  success,  but  it  was  a  step  in  the  right  direction,  and 
produced  good  results.  The  old  watch  system  was 
abolished,  and  a  day  and  night  police  created  for  one 
year  as  an  experiment.  The  force  had  miscellaneous 
duties  to  perform.  Policemen  were  to  keep  the  peace, 
light  the  street  lamps,  be  dock-masters,  street-inspectors, 
health-officers,  and  fire-wardens. .  The  police  were  in 
the  hands  of  the  mayor  and  aldermen.  They  did  the 
will  of  as  unscrupulous  and  corrupt  a  band  of  men  as 
ever  held  power  —  men  who  were  unscrupulous  parti- 
sans and  politicians.  The  guardians  of  the  city  were 
the  tools  of  corrupt  and  designing  men  :  a  terror  to 
good  people,  and  an  ally  of  rogues.  Citizens  slept  in 
terror,  and  all  New  York  arose  and  demanded  a  reform. 

ATTEMPT   AT   REFORM. 

Mr.  Havemeyer  became  mayor.  His  first  work  was 
to  rescue  the  police  from  the  hands  of  politicians.  He 
was  a  Democrat,  and  did  not  want  the  odium  of  failure 
to  fall  on  his  party.  Selecting  good  men  from  all 
parties  to  be  on  the  police,  he  wanted  the  government 
to  be  composed  of  Whigs  and  Democrats  also.  Of  the 
newly-constructed  force,  George  W.  Matsell  was  made 
the  chief.  Kigid  rules  were  made  for  the  appointment 
of  policemen.  Applications  must  be  made  in  writing, 
with  recommendations  from  well-known  citizens.  The 
antecedents  of  candidates  were  inquired  into,  and  they 
were  examined  in  reading,  writing,  and  physical  sound- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  175 

ness.  A  vigorous  and  efficient  body  of  men  became 
guardians  of  the  city.  The  police  wore  no  uniform  or 
badge  of  authority  except  a  star. 

After  a  number  of  years  the  police  force  became,  as 
before,  the  tool  of  corrupt  politicians.  Their  fidelity 
was  tampered  with,  and  their  efficiency  marred.  The 
board  of  aldermen,  the  most  corrupt  that  New  York 
ever  knew,  made  the  force  an  instrument  of  their  will. 
The  police  were  in  their  power,  and  they  could  break 
them  at  will.  The  aldermen  interfered  directly  with 
the  execution  of  justice.  They  were  magistrates  as 
well  as  aldermen.  The  rogues  of  the  city  were  their 
friends.  If  the  police  made  arrests,  the  aldermen  dis- 
charged the  prisoner,  and  probably  punished  the  officer. 
Nothing  was  safe  in  New  York,  and  general  alarm  pre- 
vailed. Great  crimes  were  openly  committed  and  un- 
punished. The  people  cried  to  the  Legislature  for  re-, 
lief,  and  the  police  were  taken  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
Common  Council.  They  were  put  into  the  hands  of 
a  commission,  composed  of  the  recorder,  the  city 
judge,  and  the  mayor. 

UNIFORM   REBELLION. 

The  new  commission  decided  to  uniform  the  force. 
The  police  refused  to  wear  it.  They  were  no  serfs, 
they  said,  and  would  wear  no  badge  of  servility  to 
please  any  one.  Politicians,  mad  that  their  power  was 
gone,  fomented  the  discontent,  strengthened  the  re- 
bellion, and  promised  to  stand  by  the  police  in  their 
defiance  of  law.  An  indignation  meeting  was  called, 
and  the  arbitrary  and  servile  order  denounced.  Mayor 
Westervelt  and  Eecorder  Tillon,  the  commissioners; 


176  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

were  men  not  to  be  trifled  with.  They '  dismissed  at 
once  every  man  connected  with  the  meeting.  The  re- 
fractory men  denied  the  right  of  the  commission  to 
dismiss,  them.  They  appealed  to  the  court,  and  after 
an  exciting  and  almost  turbulent  hearing,  the  dismissal 
was  sustained. 

While  honest  men  filled  the  office  of  mayor,  recorder, 
and  judge,  the  force  was  efficient ;  but  when  bold,  un- 
scrupulous, and  corrupt  men  bore  rule,  the  worst  days  of 
the  police  came  back,  and  they  became  again  mere  tools 
of  personal  and  political  ambition.  The  people  again, 
without  distinction  of  party,  cried  to  the  Legislature 
for  relief. 

METEOPOLITAN    SYSTEM. 

It  was  necessary  to  take  the  police  out  of  the  hands 
of  New  York  officials,  who  depended  on  rogues  and 
rascals  for  their  nomination  and  election.  The  low 
foreign  population  of  New  York,  keepers  of  dens  of 
infamy,  the  depraved,  the  dissolute,  and  the  violators 
of  law,  who,  in  the  vilest  places,  nominated  the  highest 
officers,  and  who  could  elect  men  or  defeat  them,  would 
not  be  much  afraid  of  officers  who  could  be  dismissed 
or  discharged  at  the  beck  of  their  friends.  So  the 
Metropolitan  District  was  created,  including  the  City, 
Brooklyn,  Richmond,  King's,  a  part  of  Queen's,  and 
Westchester  counties,  making  a  circuit  of  about  thirty 
miles.  The  authority  was  vested  in  a  board  of  com- 
missioners, composed  of  five  citizens,  and  the  mayors 
of  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  the  board  to  be  under  the 
control  of  the  Legislature.  Fernando  Wood  was  mayor 
of  the  city.  He  saw  the  aim  of  the  new  law,  and 
resolved  to  resist  it.  The  old  board  held  over,  and  re- 


IN  NEW   YORK.  177 

fused  to  resign.  Mr.  Wood  inaugurated  civil  war  on  a 
small  scale.  He  gathered  the  old  force  into  the  City 
Hall,  and  resisted  unto  blood.  The  old  police,  having 
nothing  to  hope  from  the  new  order  of  things,  joined 
Mr.  Wood  in  his  defiance  of  law.  The  resistance  took 
a  political  shape.  The  whole  city  was  excited.  It  was 
said  that  the  gutters  would  run  with  blood.  A  riot 
broke  out  in  the  Park.  The  Seventh  Regiment,  march- 
ing down  Broadway  to  embark  for  Boston,  were  halted 
in  front  of  the  City  Hall,  and  grounded  their  arms,  ready 
for  a  general  fray.  The  case  was  taken  into  the  courts. 
Charles  O'Connor,  who  defended  Wood,  pledged  his 
professional  reputation  to  the  crowd  that  the  Court  of 
Appeals  would  sustain  his  client.  The  police  bill  was 
pronounced  constitutional,  and  Mr.  Wood  appeared  and 
took  his  seat  at  the  board  as  one  of  the  commission. 

GENERAL    SUPERINTENDENTS. 

The  efficiency  of  the  new  order  of  things  would 
depend  very  much  upon  the  general  superintendent, 
who  was  the  executive  officer.  The  choice  fell  on 
Frederick  A.  Talmadge,  formerly  recorder  of  the  city, 
an  upright,  honest  man,  but  with  scarcely  an  element 
that  made  him  fit  to  command  a  force  of  eighteen 
hundred  of  the  shrewdest  men  in  the  state.  Mr.  Amos 
Pilsbury  succeeded  Mr.  Talmadge.  He  was  in  charge 
of  the  State  Penitentiary  at  Albany.  As  a  manager 
of  criminals  he  had  no  equal.  The  penitentiary  of 
which  he  was  warden  was  the  model  penitentiary  of 
the  land.  His  power  over  desperate  men  made  him 
famous  in  all  quarters  of  the  civilized  globe.  Men 
came  from  the  principal  cities  in  Europe  to  examine 
12 


178  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

this  wonderful  institution.  The  penitentiary  was  as 
neat  as  a  Quaker  seminary.  No  millionnaire  could  boast 
of  a  more  elegant  garden.  The  discipline  was  marvel- 
lous, and  the  economy  by  which  the  institution  was 
managed  exceeded  all  praise.  The  State  Pauper  Es- 
tablishment, at  Ward's  Island,  was  conducted  in  a  most 
extravagant  style.  Captain  Pilsbury  was  called  down 
to  reform  the  concern.  He  produced  a  change  as  by 
magic.  He  knew  to  a  farthing  what  would  support 
life,  how  much  a  pauper  ought  to  eat,  how  many  should 
sit  around  the  keeper's  table,  and  what  it  should  cost 
to  supply  it.  He  bought  every  cent's  worth  that  was 
used  on  the  island.  He  set  hearty,  fat,  and  idle  pau- 
pers  to  work.  He  made  everybody  earn  his  own  bread. 
The  sick  and  the  indolent  he  banished.  His  success  in 
infusing  economy  on  the  island  was  marvellous.  He 
flitted  back  and  forth  between  Albany  and  New  York ; 
and  to  his  position  and  pay  as  warden  he  added  the 
emolument  and  authority  of  keeper  of  Ward's  Island. 

Mr.  Pilsbury  was  elected  superintendent  of  police. 
If  he  could  manage  desperate  men  in  prison,  and  make 
money  out  of  a  thousand  paupers,  what  could  he  not 
do  with  a  police  force  of  eighteen  hundred  men  ?  He 
refused  the  appointment,  for  his  double  position  and 
double  pay  were  far  better  than  the  three  thousand 
dollars  offered  by  the  commission.  He  was  allowed  to 
retain  his  position  at  Albany  and  at  Ward's  Island,  with 
the  compensation  connected  with  each  office.  To  this 
was  added  three  thousand  dollars  a  year  as  superintend- 
ent. If  the  whole  did  not  amount  to  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars a  year,  the  balance  was  to  be  made  up  to  him  by 
the  commission.  His  appointment  was  hailed  with 


IN  NEW  YORK.  179 

delight.  The  Harpers  published  a  portrait  of  the  com- 
ing man,  with  a  vigorous  life-sketch.  His  progress 
from  Albany  to  New  York  was  telegraphed.  His  con- 
nection with  the  force  was  a  lamentable  failure.  In 
prison  discipline  and  pauper  economy  he  had  no  rival ; 
but  he  had  no  ability  to  control  a  large  body  of  men, 
shrewd  and  intelligent  In  an  hour  they  measured 
him.  and  rode  over  him  rough  shod.  He  divided  the 
board  to  checkmate  Mr.  Wood,  and  formed  a  ring 
within  a  ring  all  against  himself.  He  took  men  into  his 
confidence  who  were  agents  of  his  enemies,  and  who 
betrayed  him.  Unable  to  carry  the  board  with  him  in 
his  measures,  Mr.  Pilsbury  resigned.  He  had  no  chance 
to  display  his  peculiar  talents.  As  an  economist  he 
was  not  wanted.  He  handled  no  money,  and  his  order 
to  the  value  of  a  dollar  would  not  be  recognized.  To 
marshal  men,  to  move  and  control  them,  he  had  no 
ability. 

John  Alexander  Kennedy  was  appointed  superin- 
tendent in  1860.  Important  changes  had  been  in- 
troduced into  the  law.  The  commission  was  reduced 
to  three.  The  superintendent,  the  inspectors  and  pa- 
trolmen had  their  duties  assigned  to  them.  But  com- 
plaints were  made  against  the  discipline  of  the  force. 
They  went  without  uniform  ;  could  not  be  found  when 
wanted  ;  lounged,  smoked,  and  entered  houses  to  rest ; 
visited  drinking  saloons,  and  committed  other  mis- 
demeanors. A  new  rank  was  created.  Inspectors  were 
placed  over  the  captains,  and  made  responsible  for  the 
good  conduct  of  the  men  while  on  duty.  They  went 
everywhere,  and  at  all  times;  watched  the  captains, 
examined  the  books  and  the  station-houses,  and  reported 


180  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

every  breach  of  discipline  that  they  saw.  Their  coming 
and  going  were  erratic.  They  turned  up  unexpectedly, 
and  made  summary  complaints  in  all  cases  where  of- 
ficers or  men  neglected  their  duty. 

With  the  new  order  of  things,  Mr.  Kennedy  com- 
menced his  official  duties.  He  was  offered  the  position 
fifteen  years  before  by  Mayor  Havemeyer.  Of  Scotch- 
Irish  parentage,  small  in  stature,  unobtrusive  in  his 
manner,  and  of  few  words,  he  has  tact,  executive  ability, 
is  quick  in  his  perceptions,  prompt  in  his  decisions,  and 
of  indomitable  pluck,  and  is  eminently  fitted  for  his 
position.  He  is  not  a  man  for  show.  He  seldom  wears' 
uniform,  or  any  badge  of  distinction.  He  is  the  last 
man  who  would  be  picked  out  in  a  crowd  as  the  Chief 
of  Police.  He  assumed  command  before  the  new  law 
worked  smoothly,  when  it  was  maligned,  when  politi- 
cians, who  found  crime  profitable,  attempted  to  make 
the  new  system  odious.  He  turne,d  neither  to  the  right 
nor  to  the  left,  but  discharged  his  duties  faithfully.  He 
has  changed  public  sentiment,  infused  military  discipline 
into  the  corps,  so  that  they  move  to  a  riot  in  solid 
columns  with  the  obedience  and  force  of  a  brigade. 
The  uniform  is  no  longer  regarded  as  a  badge  of 
servility,  but  as  an  honor  and  a  protection. 

THE    POLICE   AT    THEIR    WORK. 

The  London  police  dare  not  touch  a  man  unless  he 
has  committed  some  offence,  or  the  officers  have  a  war- 
rant. Well-known  thieves  and  burglars  walk  defiantly 
by  the  guardians  of  the  law,  and  know  that  no  man 
can  lay  finger  upon  them  unless  they  ply  their  profes- 
sion. A  dozen  robbers  and  pickpockets  may  go  into  a 


IN   NEW  YORK.  181 

crowd,  or  into  a  place  of  amusement,  and  though  the 
police  know  what  they  are  there  for,  they  cannot  touch 
one  of  them  unless  they  actually  commit  some  crime. 
A  mob  often  thousand  may  gather  in  St.  James's  Park, 
with  the  intent  of  sacking  Buckingham  Palace,  yet, 
until  they  begin  to  tear  down  the  fence,  or  do  some 
act  of  violence,  the  police  or  troops  have  no  power  to 
arrest  or  disperse  them.  A  royal  proclamation  might 
do  it.  So  sacred  is  personal  liberty  in  Great  Britain. 
But  our  police  can  arrest  on  suspicion  or  at  pleasure. 
They  scatter  a  mob,  and  bid  loiterers  pass  on  or  go  to 
the  station-house.  If  a  notorious  fellow  enters  a  place 
of  public  resort,  though  he  has  purchased  his  ticket, 
yet  he  will  be  ordered  to  leave  at  once  or  be  locked  up. 
At  a  great  public  gathering  in  the  night,  say  Fourth  of 
July,  when  tens  of  thousands  of  all  characters  and  hues 
gather  together,  among  whom  are  the  most  desperate 
men  and  women  in  the  world,  the  crowd  will  be  orderly 
as  a  church,  and  go  home  quietly  as  an  audience  from 
the  Academy  of  Music.  In  the  draft  riots  of  July,  the 
police  marched  in  solid  column  against  the  rioters,  and 
obeyed  orders  as  promptly  as  an  army.  They  broke 
the  prestige  of  the  mob  with  their  locusts,  and  scattered 
the  miscreants  before  the  military  arrived.  The  Prince 
of  Wales  and  Duke  of  Newcastle  expressed  astonish- 
ment at  the  ease  with  which  the  police  controlled  the 
masses.  At  the  reception  of  the  Prince  and  Princess 
of  Wales  in  London,  the  mob  overpowered  the  police, 
seven  persons  were  killed,  and  hundreds  of  men,  wo- 
men, and  children  crushed.  At  the  exhibition  of  the 
Great  Eastern  in  England,  pickpockets  swarmed  by 
hundreds,  and  thousands  of  pounds  were  stolen.  On 


182  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  exhibition  of  the  Great  Eastern  in  New  York,  she 
was  visited  by  thousands  of  people,  only  six  policemen 
were  on  duty,  and  not  a  dollar  was  lost. 

The  Metropolitan  Police  is  not  large.  Besides  the 
officers,  the  force  numbers  two  thousand  one  hundred 
men.  In  uniform  and  soldierly  bearing ;  neatness  of 
dress,  manliness,  and  physical  vigor ;  intelligence  and 
courteousness ;  promptness  and  energy  in  the  discharge 
of  duty,  often  unpleasant  and  perilous,  the  police  of  no 
city  in  the  world  can  excel  the  Metropolitan  Police  of 
New  York. 

THE   HARBOR   PRECINCT. 

The  police  on  the  water  have  a  precinct  by  them- 
selves. It  renders  a  most  valuable  service.  Its  head- 
quarters are  on  a  steamboat.  This  boat  can  be  signalled 
at  any  moment.  It  keeps  the  peace  of  the  harbor, 
quells  mutiny,  puts  out  fires,  tows  vessels  on  fire  away 
from  other  vessels,  and  rescues  vessels  in  peril.  It 
arrests  dock-robbers,  and  makes  river-thieving  danger- 
ous business. 

HEADQUARTERS. 

For  many  years  the  headquarters  were  in  the  base- 
ment of  the  Almshouse  in  the  Park.  Mr.  Matsell  had 
one  room  —  damp,  dark,  and  small  —  and  one  clerk, 
and  these  were  enough  for  the  service.  A  large  mar- 
ble building  on  Mulberry  Street,  running  through  to 
Mott,  five  stories  high,  is  the  present  headquarters.  It 
was  built  expressly  for  the  police.  It  contains  every 
convenience  that  taste,  talent,  and  liberality  can  sug- 
gest, and  is  the  most  perfect  building  of  the  kind  in 
the  world.  System,  order,  quiet  prevail,  and  every- 
thing moves  like  a  well-adjusted  door  on  oiled  hinges. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  183 

Every  man  has  his  place,  and  must  be  found  in  it. 
Thousands  daily  visit  the  rooms  —  officers  from  a  cir- 
cuit of  thirty  miles  to  make  reports  and  take  orders ; 
victims  to  make  complaints;  men  and  women,  robbed 
and  wronged,  to  get  redress ;  officers  of  justice  from 
every  city  in  the  Union ;  detectives  from  the  Old 
World  in  search  of  rascals ;  policemen  on  trial,  with 
witnesses  and  friends ;  reporters,  newspaper  men,  and 
citizens  generally.  But  all  is  quiet.  Loud  talking  and 
profanity  are  prohibited.  Smoking  and  the  use  of  to- 
bacco are  not  allowed.  You  get  a  civil  answer  to  a 
question,  and  the  officers  are  courteous. 

Within  reach  of  the  chiefs  chair  is  a  telegraph, 
which  communicates  with  every  room  in  the  building, 
with,  every  station-house  in  the  city,  with  every  office 
in  the  district,  Brooklyn,  Staten  Island,  and  Westchester 
County.  Before  the  robber  has  done  up  his  bundle, 
the  finger  of  the  chief  orders  an  up-town  policeman  to 
make  the  arrest.  On  the  breaking  out  of  a  riot,  men 
are  instantaneously  marched  from  every  station-house 
to  the  gathering.  Lost  children  are  found  at  head- 
quarters. Within  an  hour  after  a  new  counterfeit  ap- 
pears every  storekeeper  in  the  city  is  notified  by  the 
police. 

Nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  has  passed  since  the 
old  watch  system  was  broken  up,  and  the  old  Leather- 
heads  disappeared  forever.  The  present  system  is  the 
growth  of  years.  The  severe  but  necessary  discipline 
to  which  the  present  force  is  subjected  makes  it  the 
security  and  pride  of  our  people.  New  York  is  the 
home  of  the  most  daring  and  desperate  criminals, 
who  come  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  Over  two 


184  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

thousand  men,  efficient,  brave,  and  well  disciplined, 
who  often  face  danger  and  death,  guard  our  homes, 
make  life  safe,  and  property  secure.  Desperate  men 
know  with  what  vigilance  New  York  is  guarded. 
Should  they  overpower  the  police,  they  know  that 
the  electric  wires,  numerous  as  the  veins  in  one's  body, 
would  communicate  with  headquarters,  and  a  few 
sharp  strokes  on  the  bell  of  the  City  Hall  would  bring 
ten  thousand  bayonets,  if  needed,  to  sustain  the  civil 
force.  To  the  untold  blessings  of  a  strong  govern- 
ment New  York  owes  much  for  her  tranquillity  and 
greatness. 

THE    FULL   POLICE   FORCE. 

The  official  statement  of  the  entire  Metropolitan 
Police  force  is  two  thousand  five  hundred  and  sixty-six. 
Of  this  number,  two  thousand  one  hundred  and  two 
are  employed  in  New  York.  This  force  is  divided 
into  one  superintendent,  four  inspectors,  eighteen 
surgeons,  forty-five  captains,  one  hundred  and  seventy- 
seven  sergeants,  ninety-one  roundsmen,  two  hundred 
and  eighty-nine  patrolmen  on  special  duty,  one  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  and  forty-eight  patrolmen  on 
general  duty,  ninety-three  doormen.  Of  this  force, 
all  but  four  hundred  and  sixty  are  in  the  city  of 
New  York.  The  incidental  duties  of  the  police  for 
a  single  quarter  are  thus  summed  up  :  Lost  children 
delivered  to  parents,  two  thousand  nine  hundred  and 
ninety-six  ;  abandoned  infants  delivered  to  Alms- 
house,  thirty-six  ;  animals  found,  six  hundred  and 
eleven ;  accidents  reported,  one  thousand  two  hundred 
and  seventy-two  ;  buildings  found  open  and  secured, 
one  thousand  three  hundred  and  eighty-six ;  fires  at- 


IN   NEW.  YORK.  185 

tended,  two  hundred  and  sixty-two ;  reported  viola- 
tions of  law,  sixteen  thousand  five  hundred  and  eight ; 
destitute  persons  lodged,  twenty-five  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  nineteen ;  money  received  from  lodgers 
when  they  were  able  to  take  care  of  themselves,  one 
hundred  and  seventeen  thousand  two  hundred  and 
fifty-five  dollars  ;  stolen  and  lost  property  in  charge  of 
the  property  clerk,  three  thousand  five  hundred  and 
forty  lots. 


186  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


XIX. 
WILLIAM    B.    ASTOR. 

A    MAN    OP   THE    OLD    SCHOOL.  —  HIS    OFFICE.  —  MR.  ASTOR    AS    A    CITIZEN.  — 

MR.  ASTOR'S  SONS.  — JOHN  JACOB  ASTOR,  JR. 
A   MAN    OF   THE    OLD    SCHOOL. 

MR.  ASTOR  is  the  son  of  John  Jacob  Astor.  To  him 
the  fame  and  fortune  of  his  father  have  been  intrusted. 
He  is  about  seventy  years  of  age.  He  is  a  tall,  heavy- 
built  man,  with  a  decided  German  look,  a  countenance 
blank,  eyes  small  and  contracted,  a  look  sluggish  and 
unimpassioned,  unimpressible  in  his  feelings,  taciturn 
and  unsocial.  He  has  his  father's  ability  for  acquiring 
property.  His  habits  are  very  simple,  and  mode  of 
life  uniform.  He  rises  early,  and  does  his  private 
correspondence  before  breakfast,  which  meal  he  takes 
at  nine  o'clock.  He  lives  in  Lafayette  Place,  and 
usually  walks  down  to  his  office  in  the  morning.  There 
is  nothing  about  him  to  attract  attention.  He  would 
not  be  distinguished  from  the  crowd  anywhere.  In 
church  he  might  be  taken  for  a  college  professor ;  on 
'change,  for  a  merchant  who  had  very  little  interest  in 
what  was  going  on.  He  belongs  to  a  race  of  mer- 
chants, fast  dying  out  in  the  city,  who  attend  to  their 
own  business. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  187 


HIS    OFFICE, 

On  Prince  Street,  just  out  of  Broadway,  is  a  plain, 
one-stqry  building,  looking  not  unlike  a  country  bank. 
The  windows  are  guarded  by  heavy  iron  bars.  Here 
Mr.  Astor  controls  his  immense  estate.  In  1846,  Mr. 
Astor  was  reputed  to  be  worth  five  millions.  His  uncle 
Henry,  a  celebrated  butcher  in  the  Bowery,  left  -him 
his  accumulated  wealth,  reaching  half  a  million.  By 
fortunate  investments,  and  donations  from  his  father, 
he  is  now  supposed  to  be  worth  forty  millions.  His 
property  is  mostly  in  real  estate,  and  in  valuable  leases 
of  property  belonging  to  Trinity  Church.  At  ten 
o'clock  every  morning  Mr.  Astor  enters  his  office.  It 
consists  of  two  rooms.  The  first  is  occupied  by  his 
clerks.  His  sons  have  a  desk  on  either  side  of  the 
room.  In  the  rear  room,  separated  from  the  front  by 
folding  doors,  is  Mr.  Astor's  office.  It  is  plainly  and 
scantily  furnished,  but  it  is  open  to  everybody.  On 
entering  the  outer  office,  Mr.  Astor  is  plainly  in  sight, 
sitting  at  his  table.  His  room  is  guarded  by  no  porter ; 
no  introduction  is  necessary.  You  see  before  you  a 
heavy-moulded,  large  man,  who  puts  on  no  airs,  asks  no 
questions,  says  nothing  till  your  business  is  announced. 
He  hears  what  you  have  to  say,  and  in  the  fewest  pos- 
sible words  gives  you  an  answer.  To  annoy  him  with 
a  long  talk  is  simply  impossible.  He  is  curt  and 
decided,  and  is  as  chary  of  his  words  as  he  is  of  his  dol- 
lars. He  knows  every  inch  of  real  estate  that  stands 
in  his  name,  every  bond,  contract,  and  lease.  He 
knows  what  is  due  when  leases  expire,  and  attends 
personally  to  all  this  matter.  No  tenant  can  expend  a 


188  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

dollar,  or  put  in  a  pane  of  glass,  without  his  personal 
inspection.  His  father  sold  him  the  Astor  House  for 
the  sum  of  one  dollar.  The  lessees  are  not  allowed  to 
spend  one  cent  on  that  building  without  his  supervision 
and  consent,  unless  they  pay  for  -it  themselves.  In  the 
upper  part  of  New  York  hundreds  of  lots  can  be  seen 
enclosed  by  dilapidated  fences,  disfigured  by  rocks  and 
waste  material,  or  occupied  as  gardens  ;  mostly  corner 
lots.  These  are  eligibly  located,  many  of  them  sur- 
rounded by  a  fashionable  population.  They  give  an 
untidy  and  bankrupt  appearance  to  the  upper  part  of 
the  city.  Mr.  Astor  owns  most  of  these  corner  lots.  He 
will  sell  the  centre  lots,  but  keeps  the  corners  for  a 
rise.  He  will  neither  sell  nor  improve  them.  Fre- 
quently men  call,  and  announce  some  great  improve- 
ment in  the  vicinity  of  his  up-town  property.  They 
are  abo.ut  to  build  a  church,  or  put  up  some  public 
institution,  and  ask  of  him  a  subscription.  He  usually 
gives  nothing.  He  knows  that  no  parties  can  improve 
the  centre  of  the  block  without  benefiting  the  corners. 
He  knows  that  the  improvements  will  go  on  whether 
he  gives  or  not.  He  leaves  the  giving  to  others,  while 
he  enjoys  the  profit. 

MR.    ASTOR   AS    A    CITIZEN. 

He  is  very  unlike  his  father.  He  has  none  of  the 
genial,  hearty,  and  contagious  vivacity  that  marked 
the  elder  Mr.  Astor.  He  has  none  of  that  love  of  trade 
and  enterprise  of  his  father.  He  sits  in  his  office,  which 
has  the  general  air  of  a  house  of  detention,  day  after 
day.  His  business  is  with  investments.  He  makes 
them  wisely,  and  quietly  waits  for  the  advance.  He  is 


IN  NEW   YORK.  189 

% 

sombre  and  solitary,  dwells  alone,  and  mixes  little  with 
general  society.  He  is  liberal  on  special  occasions ; 
gives  little  to  general  charity,  abhors  beggars,  and  is  a 
man  with  whom  solicitors  do  not  care  to  waste  words. 
Politicians  cannot  bleed  him.  He  has  answered  his 
father's  wishes  by  additions  to  the  Astor  Library,  and 
has  never  bound  himself  up  with  the  educational  or 
benevolent  enterprises  of  the  day.  Business  hours 
over,  he  locks  his  desk,  and  turns  from. his  office  into 
Broadway.  He  seldom  rides.  At  a  given  hour,  each 
afternoon,  he  can  be  seen  joining  the  up-town  throng 
on  the  pavement,  walking  towards  his  home. 

He  lives  in  princely  style  in  a  mansion  built  for  him 
by  his  father,  adjoining  the  Astor  Library.  He  is  very 
frugal  in  his  living,  rarely  touching  a  glass  of  wine. 
During  the  season  he  gives  dinners  frequently  to  his 
friends,  than  which  none  are  more  elegant  in  the  city. 
His  gold  plate,  servants  in  livery,  the  delicacies  of  the 
season,  make  the  Astor  dinners  a  speciality  in  New 
York.  Mrs.  Astor  was  the  daughter  of  General  Arm- 
strong, Mr.  Madison's  Secretary  of  War.  She  is  one  of 
the  most  accomplished  and  benevolent  ladies  in  the 
city. 

MR.  ASTOR'S  SONS, 

John  Jacob,  and  William  B.,  Jr.,  do  business  with  their 
father.  The  eldest,  John  Jacob,  is  a  large-framed,  heavy- 
moulded  man,  resembling  his  father.  William  B.  is  a 
small,  slim  man,  with  raven  black  hair,  resembling  his 
mother.  They  are  rich  in  inherited  wealth,  and  are 
rich  in  wealth  that  they  have  accumulated.  They  live 
in  fashionable  style  on  Fifth  Avenue.  They  are  first- 
class  business  men.  No  banker  and  no  clerk  in  New 


190  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

York  goes  more  regularly  and  systematically  to  busi- 
ness than  do  these  young  men.  They  unite  the  genial 
vivacity  of  their  grandfather  and  the  sturdy  adherence 
to  business  of  their  father.  Every  day  they  can  be 
seen  walking  down  to  their  business  in  Wall  Street,  to 
which  they  attend  as  devotedly  as  if  their  support  and 
fortune  depended  upon  it.  They  are  seldom  separate, 
and  at  the  close  of  business  they  walk  up  together  with 
the  crowd  from  Wall  Street.  Should  their  father  die 
to-day,  they  could  take  his  immense  business,  with 
which  they  are  well  acquainted,  and  carry  it  on  in 
the  same  manner  in  which  it  has  been  conducted 
since  the  death  of  their  grandfather.  They  are  very 
liberal,  and  have  made  great  contributions  to  the  Union 
cause  during  our  civil  war.  John  Jacob  entered  per- 
sonally into  the  conflict,  became  a  member  of  the  staff 
of  the  commanding  general,  and  was  in  many  deadly 
conflicts. 

j.  JOHN    JACOB    ASTOR, 

The  senior  brother  of  William  B.  Astor,  inherited  the 
name  of  his  father.  He  was  an  imbecile  from  his 
birth.  He  was  tenderly  cared  for  while  his  father 
lived.  A  fine  mansion  —  including  an  entire  block  on 
Fourteenth  Street,  with  stables,  grounds,  and  fine 
gardens,  coaches,  horses,  and  servants  —  was  provided 
for  his  comfort.  Whoever  else  was  cared  for,  this  son 
must  not  be  neglected.  The  whole  property  of  Mr. 
Astor  was  charged  with  this  trust.  A  physician  was 
chosen  as  his  guardian.  He  lived  in  the  mansion, 
enjoyed  its  elegant  appointments,  had  his  table  fur- 
nished, and  servants  and  carriages  provided.  Under 
his  eye  Mr.  Astor  was  quiet  and  docile  as  a  child.  But 


IN  NEW  YORK.  191 

he  could  not  be  left  In  the  contract  made,  the 
guardian  had  permission  to  go  to  church  without  his 
charge.  But  to  all  other  places  —  cof  certs,  lectures, 
theatres,  social  visits,  parties,  up  town,  down  town, 
travelling,  or  at  home  —  the  two  were  together.  Walk- 
ing a  little  behind  the  physician,  Mr.  Astor  could  be 
seen  daily  in  the  streets  of  New  York.  If  disposed  to  be 
turbulent,  or  noisy,  or  rude,  all  the  physician  had  to  do 
was  to  lift  his  finger,  and  say,  "  Astor,  be  a  man ! " 
and  he  would  subside  at  once.  He  was  not  obliged  to 
sleep  with  Mr.  Astor  at  night,  but  the  door  of  his  room, 
which  connected,  was  always  kept  open.  Besides  the 
house  and  perquisites,  the  physician  was  paid  a  salary 
of  five  thousand  dollars  a  year. 

On  the  death  of  his  father,  William  B.  Astor  thought 
the  compensation  too  much.  He  thought  the  comfort 
of  his  brother  could  be  secured  without  such  an  outlay. 
He  notified  the  doctor,  who  had  had  his  brother  in 
charge  for  so  many  years,  that  he  should  reduce  his 
salary.  The  physician  resigned,  and  a  new  guardian 
was  placed  over  the  brother.  The  removal  of  his  old 
friend  transformed  him.  He  became  wild  and  furious. 
Like  the  man  among  the  tombs,  no  one  could  tame 
him.  He  smashed  the  windows,  broke  up  the  furni- 
ture, destroyed  everything  he  could  lay  his  hands  on. 
He  was  a  man  of  immense  size  and  great  natural 
strength ;  and  now  that  he  was  maddened,  he  was  as 
furious  as  a  wild  beast.  In  terror  the  family  fled  to  the 
old  guardian  for  relief.  He  refused  to  return.  Out  of 
love  for  John  Jacob  Astor,  he  had  for  years  denied 
himself  every  comfort,  and  been  a  slave  to  his  son. 
He  had  been  dismissed  from  mercenary  motives,  and 


192  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

he  chose  not  to  renew  the  engagement.  The  mad- 
dened man  could  not  be  controlled.  In  the  lull  of  his 
paroxysms  he  moaned  for  his  old  friend.  At  length  the 
doctor  relented.  He  would  go  back  for  a  salary  of  ten 
thousand  dollars,  secured  to  him  for  a  term  of  years. 
The  bargain  was  closed.  The  old  eye  and  the  familiar 
voice  subdued  the  patient,  and  there  was  no  outbreak 
afterwards. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  193 


XX. 

CORNELIUS    VANDERBILT. 

EARLY  LIFE. —  MR.  VANDERBILT  IN  HIS  OFFICE. — PERSONAL. — AS  A  RAIL- 
ROAD MAN.  —  MR.  VANDERBILT  ON  THE  OCEAN.  —  GREAT  GIFT  TO  THE 
NATION. 

THIS  gentleman,  known  as  Commodore  Vanderbilt, 
is  one  of  the  self-made  millionnaires  of  the  city.  He 
began  life  a  penniless  boy.  He  took  to  the  water 
early.  He  began  life  on  his  own  account  by  rowing  a 
boat  from  Staten  Island  to  this  city.  He  took  command 
of  a  North  River  steamboat  when  quite  young,  and  was 
distinguished  at  the  start  for  his  resolute,  indomitable, 
and  daring  will.  He  began  his  moneyed  success  by 
chartering  steamboats,  and  running  opposition  to  all 
the  old  lines,  up  the  North  River,  up  the  East  River, 
up  the  Connecticut  River,  everywhere.  Making  a  little 
money,  he  invested  it  in  stocks  which  were  available  in 
cash,  and  always  ready  for  a  bargain.  Honorable  in 
trade,  prompt,  firm,  and  reliable,  he  was  decided  in  his 
business,  and  could  drive  as  hard  a  bargain  as  any  man 
in  the  city.  His  custom  has  been  to  conduct  his  busi- 
ness on  the  cash  principle,  and  never  allow  a  Saturday 
night  to  close  without  every  man  in  his  employ  getting 
his  money.  If  anybody  was  about  to  fail,  wanted 
money,  had  a  bargain  to  offer,  he  knew  where  to  call. 
13 


194  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Nothing  came  amiss.  A  load  of  lumber,  coal,  or  cord- 
age ;  a  cargo  of  a  ship,  or  a  stock  of  goods  in  a  factory ; 
glassware,  merchandise,  or  clothing  ;  —  the  Commodore 
was  sure  to  find  a  use  for  them. 

MR.  VANDERBILT   IN   HIS    OFFICE. 

From  nine  to  eleven  the  Commodore  is  in  his 
up-town  office  ;  at  one,  in  his  down-town  office.  Be- 
tween these  hours  he  visits  the  Harlem  and  Hudson 
River  stations.  He  is  now  nearly  eighty  years  of 
age.  He  is  erect  as  a  warrior.  He  is  tall,  very 
slim,  genteel  in  his  make  up,  with  a  fine  presence, 
hair  white  as  the  driven  snow,  and  comes  up  to 
one's  idea  of  a  fine  merchant  of  the  olden  time.  He 
is  one  of  the  shrewdest  merchants,  prompt  and  de- 
cided. In  one  of  the  down-town  mansions,  where  the 
aristocracy  used  to  reside,  he  has  his  place  of  business. 
He  drives  down  through  Broadway  in  his  buggy  drawn 
by  his  favorite  horse,  celebrated  for  his  white  feet,  one 
of  the  fleetest  in  the  city,  which  no  money  can  buy. 
His  office  consists  of  a  single  room,  quite  large,  well 
furnished,  and  adorned  with  pictures  of  favorite  steam- 
boats, ferry-boats,  and  ocean  steamers.  The  entrance 
to  the  office  is  through  a  narrow  hall-way,  which  is 
made  an  outer  room  for  his  confidential  clerk.  He  sees 
personally  all  who  call,  rising  to  greet  the  comer,  and 
seldom  sits  till  the  business  is  discharged  and  the 
visitor  gone.  But  for  this  he  would  be  overrun  and 
bored  to  death.  His  long  connection  with  steamboats 
and  shipping  brings  to  him  men  from  all  parts  of  the 
world  who  have  patents,  inventions,  and  improvements, 
and  who  wish  his  indorsement.  If  a  man  has  anything 


IN   NEW   YORK.  195 

to  sell,  he  settles  the  contract  in  a  very  few  words.  The 
visitor  addresses  the  Commodore,  and  says,  "  I  have  a 
stock  of  goods  for  sale  :  what  will  you  give  ?  "  A  half 
dozen  sharp  inquiries  are  made,  and  a  price  named. 
The  seller  demurs,  announcing  that  such  a  price  would 
ruin  him.  "  I  don't  want  your  goods.  What  did  you 
come  here  for  if  you  did  not  want  to  sell  ?  If  you  can 
get  more  for  your  goods,  go  and  get  it."  Not  a  mo- 
ment of  time  will  be  wasted,  not  a  cent  more  be  of- 
fered ;  and  if  the  man  leaves  with  the  hope  of  getting  a 
better  price,  and  returns  to  take  the  first  offer,  he  will 
not,  probably,  sell  the  goods  at  all. 

PERSONAL. 

Mr.  Vanderbilt  lives  in  a  down-town  location.  It 
•was  once  very  fashionable.  It  is  near  the  New  York 
University;  a  very  large  but  very  plain  brick  mansion ; 
a  good  type  of  the  dwellings  of  the  millionnaires  of  the 
old  school,  before  the  jaunty  freestone  houses,  with  their 
florid  painting  and  gaudy  trimmings,  came  into  vogue. 
Everything  about  it  is  solid,  substantial,  comfortable. 
But  there  is  no  North  River  steamboat  about  the  fitting 
up.  His  stables  are  in  his  yard.  They  are  unrivalled  for 
convenience  and  comfort.  He  has  also  a  small  trotting 
course,  around  which  he  drives  in  rainy  weather,  when 
his  horses  are  exercised  and  their  speed  exhibited.  He 
rises  early,  takes  a  plain  breakfast,  and  then  spends  an 
hour  in  his  stables,  after  which  he  goes  to  his  office. 
What  he  calls  business  consists  in  riding.  Every  after- 
noon he  can  be  seen  at  Central  Park,  and  on  the  road 
where  fast  nags  are  put  to  their  mettle.  His  great 
passion  is  for  horse-flesh.  He  handles  his  own  team, 


196  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

and  is  probably  the  best  driver,  except  Bonner,  in  the 
state.  He  had  the  fastest  team  in  the  state  till  Bon- 
ner's  Flatbush  Maid  and  her  companion  distanced  all 
competitors.  The  Commodore  has  swept  the  horizon 
since  then  for  a  fast  team.  He  keeps  a  standing  offer 
of  ten  thousand  dollars  for  one  of  the  required  speed. 
He  would  give  twenty  thousand  dollars  to  own  the 
leading  team  of  the  city.  He  is  a  most  daring  driver; 
and  to  see  him  on  the  road  with  his  flying  steeds,  pass- 
ing everything,  distancing  everything,  cool,  erect,  and 
skilful,  one  would  hardly  suppose  he  was  nearly  eighty 
years  of  age.  Not  long  since  he  invited  a  friend  to 
ride  with  him.  He  proposed  to  cross  Harlem  Railroad. 
The  express  train  was  in  sight.  In  spite  of  remon- 
strance, he  gave  the  well-known  word,  and  his  steeds 
started  with  the  fleetness  of  deers.  The  wheels  had 
scarcely  left  the  track  when  whiz  went  the  locomotive 
by  as  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  lifting  the  hats  of 
Vanderbilt  and  his  friend  by  the  current  which  it 
created.  "  There  is  not  another  man  in  New  York  that 
could  do  that!"  the  Commodore  said.  "And  you  will 
never  do  it  again  with  me  in  your  wagon  ! "  the  friend 
replied. 

AS    A   RAILROAD    MAN. 

Turning  from  steamboats,  Mr.  Vanderbilt  long  ago 
became  interested  in  railroads.  So  great  has  been  his 
success,  that  he  can  control  the  stock  market  when  he 
will.  An  attempt  was  made  some  time  since  to  break 
him  down  by  cornering  the  stock.  He  wanted  to  con- 
solidate the  Harlem  Railroad  with  the  Hudson.  Enough 
of  the  Legislature  was  supposed  to  have  been  secured 
to  carry  the  measure.  The  parties  who  had  agreed  to 


IN  NEW  YORK.  197 

pass  the  bill  intended  to  play  foul.  Besides  this,  they 
thought  they  would  indulge  in  a  little  railroad  specula- 
tion. They  sold  Harlem,  to  be  delivered  at  a  future 
day,  right  and  left.  These  men  let  their  friends  into 
the  secret,  and  allowed  them  to  speculate.  Clear  on  to 
Chicago  there  was  hardly  a  railroad  man  who  was  not 
selling  Harlem  short.  The  expected  consolidation  ran 
the  stock  up.  The  failure  of  the  project  would,  of 
course,  run  it  down.  A  few  days  before  the  vote  was 
taken,  some  friends  called  upon  Commodore  Vanderbilt. 
and  gave  him  proof  that  a  conspiracy  existed  to  ruin 
him,  if  possible,  in  this  matter  of  consolidation.  He  took 
all  the  funds  he  could  command,  and,  with  the  aid  of 
his  friends,  bought  all  the  Harlem  stock  that  could  be 
found,  and  locked  it  up  in  his  safe.  True  to  the  report, 
the  bill  was  rejected.  The  men  who  had  pledged 
themselves  for  it  openly  and  unblushingly  voted 
against  it.  They  waited  anxiously  for  the  next  morn- 
ing, when  they  expected  their  fortune' would  be  made 
by  the  fall  of  Harlem.  But  it  did  not  fall.  To  the 
surprise  of  everybody,  the  first  day  it  remained  sta- 
tionary. Then  it  began  to  rise  steadily,  to  the  conster- 
nation and  terror  of  speculators.  There  was  no  stock 
to  be  had  at  any  price.  Men  were  ruined  on  the  right 
hand  and  on  the  left.  Fortunes  were  swept  away,  and 
the  cries  of  the  wounded  were  heard  all  up  and  down 
the  Central  Road.  An  eminent  railroad  man  near 
Albany,  worth  quite  a  pretty  fortune,  who  confidently 
expected  to  make  fifty  thousand  dollars  by  the  opera- 
tion, became  penniless.  One  of  the  sharpest  and  most 
successful  operators  in  New  York  lost  over  two  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars,  which  he  refused  to  pay,  on  the 


198  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

ground  of  conspiracy.  His  name  was  immediately 
stricken  from  the  Stock  Board,  which  brought  him  to 
his  senses.  He  subsequently  settled.  Thousands  were 
ruined.  But  Vanderbilt  .made  money  enough  out  of 
this  attempt  to  ruin  him,  to  pay  for  all  the  stock  he 
owned  in  the  Harlem  Road. 

When  he  first  got  possession  of  the  Harlem,  there 
was  a  strong  feeling  of  hostility  against  him  manifested 
by  the  Hudson  River  Road.  The  Commodore  was 
snubbed  by  the  aristocracy  that  controlled  the  Hudson. 
It  was  a  great  political  machine,  ruled  by  a  ring.  He 
told  the  managers  to  be  civil,  or  he  would  make  them 
trouble.  The  managers  laughed  at  the  idea.  The  first 
thing  they  knew,  at  one  of  their  annual  meetings,  was, 
that  Samuel  Sloane,  the  old  president,  was  turned  out, 
and  Tobin,  Vanderbilt's  right  hand  man,  put  in  his 
place.  From  that  hour  to  this  Vanderbilt  has  con- 
trolled both  the  Hudson  and  Harlem  Roads.  Tobin 
soon  became  unmindful  of  the  power  that  made  him. 
He  refused  to  obey  the  dictation  of  his  chief,  and,  con- 
fident of  his  position,  set  up  for  himself.  He  was  soon 
removed,  and  Mr.  Vanderbilt's  son,  William  H.,  was 
put  in  his  place. 

MR.    VANDERBILT    ON    THE    OCEAN.      • 

Not  satisfied  with  his  achievements  on  the  land  and 
on  the  rivers,  Mr.  Vanderbilt  resolved  to  try  the  ocean. 
He  built  a  fine  steamer  at  his  own  cost,  and  equipped 
her  completely.  The  Collins  line  was  then  in  its  glory. 
Mr.  Collins,  with  his  fine  "fleet  of  steamers  and  his  sub- 
sidy from  the  government,  was  greatly  elated  and  very 
imperious.  It  was  quite  difficult  to  approach  him. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  199 

Any  day,  on  the  arrival  of  a  steamer,  he  could  be  seen 
pacing  the  dock,  the  crowd  falling  back,  and  making 
space  for  the  tread  of  the  important  personage.  One 
of  his  ships  was  lost.  Vanderbilt  applied  to  Collins  to 
allow  his  steamer  to  take  the  place  vacant  on  the  line 
for  a  time.  He  promised  to -make  no  claim  for  the 
subsidy,  and  to  take  off  his  ship  as  soon  as  Collins  built 
one  to  take  her  place.  Collins  refused  to  do  this.  He 
was  afraid  if  Vanderbilt  got  his  foot  into  this  ocean 
business,  he  would  get  in  his  whole  body.  If  Vander- 
bilt could  run  an  ocean  steamship  without  subsidy, 
government  would  require  Collins  to  do  it.  He  saw 
only  mischief  any  way.  He  not  only  refused,  but  refused 
very  curtly.  In  the  sharp  Doric  way  that  Vanderbilt 
has  of  speaking  when  he  is  mad,  he  told  Collins  that  he 
would  run  his  line  off  of  the  ocean  if  it  took  all  of  his 
own  fortune  and  the  years  of  his  life.  He  commenced 
his  opposition  in  a  .manner  that  made  it  irresistible, 
and  a  work  of  short  duration.  He  offered  the  govern- 
ment to  carry  the  mails  for  a  term  of  years  without  a 
dollar's  cost  to  the  nation.  He  offered  to  bind  himself 
under  the  heaviest  bonds  the  government  could  exact 
to  perform  this  service  for  a  term  of  years  more 
promptly  and  faithfully  than  it  had  ever  been  done 
before.  His  well-known  business  tact,  energy,  and 
wealth  were  conceded.  His  ability  to  do  what  he  said 
no  one  could  deny.  His  proposition  was  not  only  laid 
before  the  members  of  Congress,  but  pressed  home  by 
a  hundred  agencies  that  he  employed.  The  subsidy 
was  withdrawn  ;  Collins  became  bankrupt ;  his  splendid 
fleet  of  steamers,  the  finest  the  world  had  ever  seen, 
were  moored  at  the  wharves,  where  they  lie  rotting. 


200  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Had  Collins  conceded  to  Vanderbilt's  wishes,  or  divided 
with  him  the  business  on  the  ocean,  the  Collins  line 
would  not  only  have  been  a  fact  to-day,  but  would 
have  been  as  prosperous  as  the  Cunard  line. 

GREAT    GIFT    TO    THE   NATION. 

When  the  rebellion  broke  out,  the  navy  was  in  a 
feeble  condition.  Every  ship  in  the  South  was  pressed 
into  the  rebel  service.  The  men-of-war  at  Norfolk 
were  burned.  At  Annapolis  they  were  mutilated  and 
made  unfit  for  service.  The  efficient  portion  of  the 
navy  was  cruising  in  foreign  seas  beyond  recall.  The 
need  of  ships-of-war  and  gunboats  was  painfully  ap- 
parent. The  steamship  Yanderbilt  was  the  finest  and 
fleetest  vessel  that  floated  in  our  waters.  Her  owner 
fitted  her  up  as  a  man-of-war  at  his  own  expense,  and 
fully  equipped  her.  He  then  offered  her  for  sale  to  the 
government  at  a  reasonable  price.  Mr.  Vanderbilt 
found  that  there  were  certain  men  standing  between 
the  government  and  the  purchase,  who  insisted  on  a 
profit  on  every  vessel  that  the  government  bought. 
He  refused  to  pay  the  black-mail  that  was  exacted  of 
him  if  his  vessel  became  the  property  of  the  nation. 
He  was  told  that  unless  he  acceded  to  these  demands, 
he  could  not  sell  his  ship.  Detesting  the  conduct  of 
the  men  who,  pretending  to  be  patriots,  were  making 
money  out  of  the  necessities  of  the  nation,  he  proceeded 
at  once  to  Washington,  and  made  a  donation  of  the 
Vanderbilt,  with  all  her  equipments,  a  free  gift  to  the 
nation. 

There  are  few  men  who  attend  more  closely  to  busi- 
ness than  Mr.  Vanderbilt,  His  property  is  estimated 


IN  NEW  YORK.  201 

at  thirty  millions.  He  is  very  liberal  where  he  takes  an 
interest,  but  very  fitful  in  his  charities.  I  have  seen 
him  not  only  subscribe  liberally  to  a  cause  presented  to 
him,  but  compel  all  his  friends  present  to  make  a 
liberal  donation.  He  is  prompt,  sharp,  and  decisive  in 
his  manner  of  doing  business.  He  is  punctual  to  his 
engagements  to  a  minute.  He  is  clear  in  his  intellect, 
and  buys  and  sells  on  the  spot.  He  is  very  intelligent, 
well  informed,  and  in  commercial  and  national  affairs 
has  no  rival  in  shrewdness  and  good  judgment.  He  is 
affable,  puts  on  no  airs,  and  is  pleasant  and  genial  as  a 
companion.  Time  is  doing  its  work  on  his  iron  frame. 
He  feels  the  decrepitude  of  age,  and  is  heeding  its  ad- 
monitions. He  enters  into  no  new  speculations,  for  he 
wishes  to  leave  no  unfinished  business  to  his  children. 
His  immense  estate  is  already  settled.  He  has  divided 
his  property  among  his  children,  and  allotted  to  his 
heirs  what  each  is  to  receive.  Financially  he  is  ready 
for  his  last  great  change. 


202  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XXI. 

THE    FIVE    POINTS. 

A  SCENE  AT  FIVE  POINTS. — LADIES*  FIVE  POINTS  MISSION.  —  ORIGIN  OF 
THE  WORK.  —  THE  FIELD  SELECTED.  —  THE  NATIONALITY  OF  THE  LOWLY. 
—  THE  MISSION  BEGUN.  — A  WALK  AROUND  FIVE  POINTS. —  THE  MISSION 

OF     THE     BEAUTIFUL.  HOW     THE    WORK     IS     SUPPORTED.  —  SUCCESS     OF 

THE    MISSION   WORK. 

A    SCENE   AT   FIVE   POINTS. 

As  the  superintendent  of  our  mission  establishment 
was  looking  out  of  his  door,  he  saw  a  man  running  up 
the  street,  apparently  in  a  state  of  wild  excitement. 
His  coat  was  off,  he  had  no  hat  on,  and  his  feet  were 
bare.  The  superintendent  approached  him,  and  led 
him  into  his  room.  He  soon  sank  into  unconscious 
slumber.  He  remained  in  this  condition  an  hour.  The 
prayer-bell  sounded,  and  he  started  in  alarm,  and  cried 
out,  "  What's  that  ?  "  He  was  told  it  was  the  prayer- 
bell.  "  Prayer-bell !  "  exclaimed  the  man.  "  Prayer- 
bell  !  Do  you  have  prayers  in  this  dreadful  locality  ?  " 
"  We  have  prayers,"  said  the  superintendent,  and  in- 
vited the  man  to  go  in.  He  went  in,  and  his  sobs  and 
cries  so  interrupted  the  service,  that  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty that  the  parties  proceeded.  He  soon  learned 
where  he  was  :  he  then  made  a  clean  breast  of  himself. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  203 

He  was  a  Western  merchant ;  he  had  a  load  of  butter 
on  the  way  to  Boston ;  he  was  a  man  of  good  standing 
at  home  ;  a  class  leader  in  the  Methodist  church.  Hav- 
ing leisure,  he  took  a  stroll  around  New  York  to  see 
the  sights.  A  respectably-dressed  and  good-looking 
woman  asked  him  to  treat  her.  As  he  wanted  to  get 
material  for  a  letter  that  he  was  to  send  home,  he 
thought  that  a  compliance  with  her  request  would 
enable  him  to  see  a  side  of  life  that  he  could  not  other- 
wise see,  so  he  went  in  to  treat.  Having  drank,  she 
insisted  upon  treating  him.  A  teetotaler  at  home,  he 
complied  with  her  invitation,  and  drank.  From  that 
time  till  he  was  awakened  by  the  prayer-bell  he  had 
no  distinct  consciousness.  He  had  an  indistinct  recol- 
lection of  being  led  down  some  dark,  damp  steps.  "He 
had  over  one  thousand  dollars  in  money  with  him,  and 
he  recollected  taking  that  out.  Money,  watch,  hat, 
coat,  —  all  were  gone.  "  Can't  I  get  my  money  and 
my  coat?  "he  asked.  "  Yes,"  said  the  superintendent, 
"I  can  get  them  for  you,  but  you  must  go  before  a 
magistrate.  Your  name,  place  of  business,  and  all  about 
you,  must  come  out  and  be  blazed  in  the  papers." 
"  Then  let  it  all  go,"  he  said ;  "  I  had  rather  lose  my 
money  than  my  good  name."  Money  was  furnished 
him ;  coat,  hat,  and  shoes  were  supplied,  all  of  which 
he  promptly  paid  for  when  his  butter  reached  Boston. 
His  search  for  things  to  put  into  a  letter  was  so  amply 
rewarded,  that  he  will  not  probably  try  it  again.  New 
York  is  said  to  be  a  very  wicked  place,  full  of  traps  and 
gins,  pitfalls  and  snares  ;  but  gentlemen  from  the 
country  are  the  persons  who  generally  fall  into  them. 


204  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LADIES'  FIVE  POINTS  MISSION.  —  ORIGIN  OF  THE  WORK. 

Seventeen  years  ago  a  few  ladies  assembled  in  a 
brown-stone  mansion  up  town,  to  consult  on  the  best 
methods  of  reaching  the  destitution  of  the  city,  and 
doing  missionary  work.  One  of  them  suggested  that 
it  would  be  better  to  go  where  the  poor  and  neglected 
children  really  were,  and  proposed  to  open  a  mission 
at  Five  Points.  It  was  then  a  dangerous  locality,  full  of 
bad  men  and  bad  women,  the  resort  of  burglars,  thieves, 
and  desperadoes,  with  dark,  under-ground  chambers, 
where  murderers  often  hid,  where  the  policeman  seldom 
went,  and  never  unarmed.  A  person  passing  through 
that  locality  after  dark  was  sure  to  be  assaulted,  beaten, 
and  probably  robbed.  The  noise  of  brawls  nightly 
filled  the  air ;  shouts  for  police  and  cries  of  murder 
brought  the  inmates  from  their  beds.  The  proposition 
that  a  lady  should  go  into  such  a  locality  to  do  mission 
work  was  received  with  astonishment. 

THE   FIELD    SELECTED. 

Persons  who  perambulate  Broadway,  on  a  pleasant 
day,  who  look  on  the  elegantly-dressed  throng  that  crowd 
the  pavement,  and  through  the  costly  plate-glass  at  the 
rich  goods  displayed,  would  be  slow  to  believe  that  within 
a  stone's  throw  squalid  want  and  criminal  woe  have  their 
abode.  Here  lie  the  Fourth  and  Sixth  Wards,  so  famous 
in  the  history  of  crime  in  New  York.  In  this  locality  one 
walks  amid  drunkenness,  wretchedness,  and  suffering, 
within  sound  of  the  rumble  of  Broadway,  within  sight  of 
the  merry,  gay,  and  well-dressed  thousands  who  move 
up  and  dcrtvn  this  thoroughfare  of  the  city.  No  pen 


IN  NEW  YORK.  205 

can  describe  the  homes  of  the  lowly  where  the  New 
York  poor  lodge.  It  is  a  region  of  wickedness,  filth, 
and  woe.  Lodging-houses  are  under  ground,  foul  and 
slimy,  without  ventilation,  and  often  without  windows, 
and  overrun  with  rats  and  every  species  of  vermin. 
Bunks  filled  with  decayed  rags,  or  canvas  bags  filled 
with  rotten  straw,  make  the  beds.  All  lodgers  pay  as 
they  enter  these  dark  domains.  The  fee  is  from  five 
to  ten  cents,  and  all  are  welcome.  Black  and  white, 
young  and  old,  men  and  women,  drunk  and  sober, 
occupy  the  room  and  fill  the  bunks.  If  there  are  no 
beds,  lodgers  throw  themselves  on  the  hard,  dirty  floor, 
and  sleep  till  morning.  Lodging-rooms  above  ground 
are  numerous  in  the  narrow  lanes,  and  in  the  dark  and 
dangerous  alleys  that  surround  the  Five  Points.  Rooms 
are  rented  from  two  to  ten  dollars  a  month,  into  which 
no  human  being  would  put  a  dog,  —  attics,  dark  as  mid- 
night at  noonday,  without  window  or  door  they  can 
shut,  without  chimney  or  stove,  and  crowded  with 
men,  women,  and  little  children.  Children  are  born  in 
sorrow,  and  raised  in  reeking  vice  and  bestiality,  that 
no  heathen  degradation  can  exceed. 

THE   NATIONALITY   OF   THE   LOWLY. 

Every  state  in  the  Union,  and  every  nation  almost  in 
the  world,  have  representatives  in  this  foul  and  danger- 
ous locality.  Its  tenant  and  cellar  population  exceed 
half  a  million.  One  block  contains  382  families.  Per- 
sons composing  these  families  were,  812  Irish,  218  Ger- 
mans, 186  Italians,  189  Poles,  12  French,  9  English,  7 
Portuguese,  2  Welsh,  39  Negroes,  10  Americans.  Of 
religious  faiths  118  represented  the  Protestant,  287 
were  Jews,  160  Catholics;  but  of  614  children,  only  1 


206  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

in  66  attended  any  school.  Out  of  916  adults,  605 
could  neither  read  nor  write.  In  the  same  block  there 
were  33  undergound  lodging-houses,  ten  feet  below  the 
sidewalk,  and  20  of  the  vilest  grog-shops  in  the  city. 
During  five  hours  on  the  Sabbath,  two  of  these  grog- 
shops were  visited  by  1054  persons,  —  450  men  and 
445  women,  91  boys  and  68  girls. 

THE   MISSION   BEGUN. 

Resolved  to  attempt  mission  work  in  this  danger- 
ous and  neglected  locality,  the  heroic  women  who 
founded  the  Five  Points  Mission  secured  a  room  op- 
posite the  Old  Brewery.  This  famous  building  stood 
in  the  centre  of  the  Five  Points.  It  was  filled  with 
a  vile  and  degraded  population.  Over  a  thousand 
persons  were  tenants  in  the  building.  The  mission- 
school  opened  with  a  group  of  rude,  untamed  chil- 
dren. They  were  lawless  as  wild  Arabs.  The  Confer- 
ence of  the  Methodist  Church  assigned  Rev.  L.  M. 
Pease  to  this  station,  and  here  he  commenced  the  great 
work  with  which  his  Home  has  been  so  long  and  so 
favorably  connected.  The  ladies  purchased  the  Old 
Brewery,  had  it  pulled  down,  and  on  its  site  erected 
the  elegant  Mission  House,  which  has  been  such  a 
blessing  to  the  lowly.  Besides  the  school-rooms,  and 
chapel  for  day  and  Sunday  service,  the  building  con- 
tains tenements  for  sober,  industrious  poor  who  are 
well  behaved,  and  here  they  find,  at  a  low  rent, 
comfort. 

For  seventeen  years  the  lady  founders  of  this  insti- 
tution have  carried  on  their  great  and  good  work. 
They  still  conduct  the  work.  From  this  institution 
the  first  company  of  sorrowing  and  neglected  chil- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  207 

dren  were  taken  to  comfortable  Christian  homes  in 
the  West.  The  kindred  institutions  of  Five  Points 
House  of  Industry,  and  others,  were  founded  by  men 
who  were  once  in  the  employ,  and  received  their 
lessons  from,  the  Old  Brewery  Mission  The  whole 
locality  has  been  changed.  Nearly  twenty  years  of 
work,  designed  to  rescue  little  suffering  childhood,  and 
to  do  good  to  the  perishing,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord, 
has  produced  ripe,  rich  fruit.  The  Old  Brewery  has 
fallen,  and  a  costjy  mansion,  the  gift  of  Christian 
munificence,  occupies  its  site.  The  House  of  Industry 
stands  opposite.  Cow  Bay  and  Murderer's  Alley,  with 
rookeries  and  abodes  of  desperate  people,  have  passed 
away.  Comfortable  tenements  occupy  their  place. 
The  hum  of  busy  toil  and  industry  takes  the  place  of 
reeking  blasphemy.  Trade,  with  its  marble,  granite, 
and  brown-stone  palaces,  is  pushing  its  way  into  this 
vile  locality,  and  is  completing  the  reform  which  reli- 
gion and  beneficence  began.  On  a  festive  day,  such  as 
Thanksgiving  and  Christmas,  the  ladies  welcome  their 
friends  to  a  sight  worth  travelling  many  miles  to  see. 
From  six  hundred  to  a  thousand  children,  homeless, 
houseless,  and  orphaned,  each  with  a  new  suit  or  dress 
made  by  the  lady  managers  and  their  friends,  singing 
charmingly,  exhibiting  great  proficiency  in  education, 
and  a  wonderful  knowledge  of  the  Bible,  sitting  down 
to  a  well-laid  table,  it  is  touching  to  see.  Hotels,  mar- 
ketmen,  bakers,  confectioners,  and  friends  generally, 
make  liberal  contribution  to  feed  the  little  ones. 
Loaves  large  enough  for  a  fancy  scull  on  the  Hudson, 
pyramids  of  candies,  and  cakes  and  good  things  by  the 
hundred  weight,  dolls,  toys,  and  presents,  are  abundant 
so  that  each  little  one  bears  some  gift  away. 


208  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


A   WALK   AROUND    FIVE   POINTS. 

A  walk  through  the  streets  in  the  neighborhood  of 
this  Mission  will  show  where  the  materials  come  from 
of  which  ft  -is  composed.  Forty  thousand  vagrant 
and  destitute  children  are  in  this  field.  Their  parents 
are  foreigners.  They  are  too  dirty,  too  ragged,  and 
carry  too  much  vermin  about  them,  to  be  admitted  to 
the  public  schools.  Their  homes  are  in  the  clens  and 
stews  of  the  city,  where  the  thieves,  vagabonds,  gam- 
blers and  murderers  dwell.  With  the  early  light  of 
morning  they  are  driven  from  their  vile  homes  to  pick 
rags  and  cinders,  collect  bones,  and  steal.  They  fill  the 
galleries  of  the  low  theatres.  They  are  familiar  with 
every  form  of  wickedness  and  crime.  As  they  grow 
up  they  swell  the  ranks  of  the  dangerous  classes.  Our 
thieves,  burglars,  robbers,  rioters,  who  are  the  most 
notorious,  are  young  persons  of  foreign  parentage,  be- 
tween ten  and  seventeen  years  of  age.  The  degraded 
women  who  tramp  the  streets  in  the  viler  parts  of 
the  city,  who  fill  the  low  dance  houses,  and  wait  and 
tend  in  low  drinking-saloons,  graduate  in  this  vile 
locality.  Over  a  thousand  young  girls,  between  the 
ages  of  twelve  and  eighteen,  can  be  found  in  the  Water 
Street  drinking-saloons.  To  this  same  character  arid 
doom  these  forty  thousand  children  are  hastening. 
All  around  this  Mission,  children  can  be  seen  who 
come  up  daily  from  the  brothels  and  dens  of  infamy 
which  they  call  their  homes,  where  women  and  men, 
black  and  white,  herd  together,  and  where  childhood  is 
trained  up,  by  daily  beatings  and  scanty  fare,  to  cruelty 
and  blasphemy.  To  rescue  them,  this  Mission  Home 


STREET    3\VEEPE£t. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  209 

was  founded.  They  are  made  clean,  are  clad  com- 
fortably, and  learn  to  sing  the  sweet  songs  about  the 
Savior  and  the  better  land.  Nearly  twenty  thousand, 
since  the  Mission  was  founded,  have  been  rescued  from 
these  hot-beds  of  wickedness,  and  placed  in  good  homes 
here  and  at  the  West.  Many,  through  the  kindness  of 
friends,  have  been  sent  to  seminaries,  from  which  they 
have  graduated  with  honor.  Not  a^few  are  firstrdass 
mechanics.  Some  of  these  hopeless  classes,  as  the 
world  regards  them,  rescued  by  the  Mission,  are  clerks 
and  cashiers  in  banks,  insurance  offices,  and  places  of 
trust.  Little  girls  picked  up  from  the  streets,  found  in 
the  gutter,  taken  from  dens  of  infamy,  brought  to  the 
Mission  by  drunken  women,  —  many  of  whom  never 
knew  father  or  mother,  —  are  now  the  adopted  daugh- 
ters of  wealthy  citizens,  the  wives  of  first-class  mechan- 
ics, of  lawyers,  and  princely  merchants.  They  owe 
their  deliverance  from  disgrace  and  shame  to  the  out- 
stretched arms  of  these  Missions. 

THE   MISSION    OF   THE    BEAUTIFUL. 

The  work  of  rescuing  the  fallen  and  the  lost  is  no 
longer  an  experiment.  The  rooms  in  which  the  chil- 
dren are  gathered  are  quite  elegant.  The  decorations 
are  the  gifts  of  friends.  If  Mary  breaks  the  alabaster 
box  of  precious  ointment  on  the  Savior's  feet,  what 
right  has  Judas  to  find  fault  ?  It  costs  him  nothing. 
She  will  be  quite  as  ready  to  aid  the  poor  as  if  she  had 
not  given  this  costly  expression  of  her  love.  Without 
pleasant  rooms,  music,  song,  and  marks  of  taste,  the 
lower  classes  cannot  be  reached.  Few  are  fitted  to  labor 
in  such  mission  work.  Patience,  a  loving  heart,  and 
14 


210  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

warm  sympathy  for  the  distressed,  are  essential.  A 
teacher  neglectful  of  her  dress,  untidy  in  appearance, 
harsh  in  voice,  and  repulsive  in  manner,  can  do  little 
good  in  this  field.  The  children  who  compose  the 
Mission  come  from  homes  of  wretchedness  and  suffering. 
They  know  want,  they  know  brutality,  they  are  famil- 
iar with  cruelty.  They  enter  a  new  world  when  they 
enter  the  Mission.  Kind  voices  welcome  them ;  tender 
hands  remove  the  rags  and  put  on  comfortable  clothes ; 
they  are  led  to  the  table,  where  they  take  the  only 
meal  they  ever  took  without  stint  and  without  terror. 
A  beautiful  lady  receives  them  at  the  school-room  door. 
The  dress  and  kind  tone  make  the  little  wanderer  think 
she  is  an  angel.  The  child  never  tires  looking  at  her 
teacher,  her  ornaments,  her  pleasant  face,  and  wonder- 
ing if  she  will  ever  be  cross,  if  she  will  ever  strike  her, 
or  turn  her  out  of  doors.  The  piano  is  sounded,  and 
the  child  is  startled  as  the  full  tide  of  song  rolls  through 
the  room.  She  has  taken  her  first  upward  step  in  life. 
Could  you  hear  that  swelling  chorus,  so  full,  so  accurate, 
so  joyous,  and  your  eyes  were  shut,  you  would  imagine 
that  you  were  in  a  cathedral,  hearing  a  choir  trained  by 
a  master's  hand,  rather  than  a  few  hundreds  of  vagrant 
children  taken  from  the  purlieus  of  New  York. 

To-morrow  this  little  rescued  one  will  sing  her  first 
song  to  the  Savior.  She  will  try  to  be  like  her  teacher, 
and  will  make  an  effort  at  cleanliness.  Then  she  will 
fix  her  hair  with  her  fingers,  get  bits  of  faded  ribbon 
or  colored  tissue  paper  for  a  rosette,  fastened  in  its 
place  by  a  pin  ornamented  with  a  glass  bead.  Lord 
Shaftesbury  helped  the  working-men  of  England  to  rise 
by  encouraging  a  love  for  flowers,  making  what  were 


IN  NEW  YORK.  211 

called  window-gardens,  and  growing  brilliant  flowers 
in  the  windows  of  the  London  poor.  The  labors  of  a 
quarter  of  a  century  have  proved  that  next  to  food  and 
clothing  the  Mission  of  the  Beautiful  is  the  most  reform- 
ing of  all  the  agencies  now  employed  in  London.  The 
lady  who  founded  Five  Points  Mission  carried  out  the 
same  idea.  She  opened  her  school  in  this  degraded 
locality  with  the  same  dress  and  ornaments  that  she 
wore  at  church  or  when  she  called  upon  a  friend.  She 
was  received  as  a  visitant  from  another  sphere.  Her 
influence  was  at  once  established,  and  for  seventeen 
years  it  has  remained  undiminished.  The  miserable 
homes  she  visited  to  bless  knew  that  she  could  not 
seek  the  society  of  Five  Points  for  her  own  pleasure. 
Degraded  women  heard  with  wonder  the  story  of  the 
Cross  from  her  lips.  They  believed  her  when  she  said 
she  came  to  them  for  His  sake  who  left  heaven  to  die 
for  men,  and  when  on  earth  had  not  where  to  lay 
His  head. 

HOW   THE   WORK  IS   SUPPORTED. 

Over  half  a  million  of  property  has  been  consecrated 
to  this  great  work  among  the  neglected,  the  abandoned, 
and  the  lowly.  The  whole  of  it  has  been  a  voluntary 
offering  to  Christ  from  the  benevolent.  This  Mission 
has  no  funds,  but  relies  upon  the  voluntary  donations 
of  food,  clothing,  and  money  which  are  sent  in  from 
every  portion  of  the  land.  The  institution  is  constant- 
ly increasing  in  efficiency,  and  enlarging  its  work.  Yet 
the  donations  keep  pace  with  its  extent.  The  doors 
are  open  to  all  comers,  day  and  night.  Eailroads  and 
expressmen  bring  donations  free  of  charge.  The  benef- 
icence of  our  land,  in  the  city  and  in  the  country,  has 


212  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

4 

a  fitting  memorial  in  this  dark  and  terrible  locality  of 
the  metropolis. 

SUCCESS   OF   THE  MISSION   WORK. 

The  leading  soprano  of  one  of  our  largest  and  most 
popular  churches,  who  was  recently  married  to  the  son 
of  a  wealthy  merchant  in  New  York,  was  brought  to 
the  door  of  one  of  the  Five  Points  Mission  Houses  by 
a  drunken  woman,  who  left  her  young  charge  and 
departed.  The  little  stranger  was  taken  in.  She  has 
never  known  father  nor  mother :  the  child  of  neglect 
and  suffering  she  evidently  was.  Scantily  clothed  with 
ragged  garments,  hungry  and  sorrowful,  she  found  in 
the  Mission  the  first  sympathy  she  had  ever  known. 
She  proved  to  be  a  bright  and  cheerful  child,  and  apt 
to  learn.  She  developed  early  a  taste  for  music.  Kind 
friends  furnished  means  to  cultivate  her  talent.  She 
has  never  despised  her  adopted  home,  or  been  ashamed 
of  the  friends  who  rescued  her.  Had  she  been  born  in 
Fifth  Avenue,  among  the  upper  ten,  her  prospects  in 
life  could  hardly  have  been  fairer. 

A   REMARKABLE   MEETING. 

On  Thanksgiving  Day,  four  young  men  and  their 
wives  met  together  for  a  social  dinner.  One  of  them 
was  cashier  of  a  leading  New  York  bank,  one  of  them 
was  book-keeper  of  a  large  insurance  office,  another 
was  confidential  clerk  in  a  leading  mercantile  house, 
the  fourth  was  a  rising  lawyer.  The  wives  of  all 
were  intelligent  and  accomplished,  and  moved  in  good 
society.  The  dinner  was  given  at  the  house  of  one  of 
the  party.  It  was  a  genteel  residence,  handsomely 


IN  NEW  YORK.  213 

furnished.  The  hand  of  taste  and  liberality  adorned 
the  dwelling  and  presided  over  the  table.  Those  four 
young  women  were  taken  out  of  the  slums  of  New 
York,  when  they  were  little  children,  by  Christian  wo- 
men. They  were  removed  from  the  reeking  atmos- 
phere of  vice  and  blasphemy,  and  brought  under  the 
genial  influences  of  religion.  They  were  turned  from 
the  black  pathway  that  thousands  tread  to  the  narrow 
way  of  intelligence  and  purity.  The  young  men  were 
born  in  the  dark  chambers  of  lower  New  York,  where 
the  depraved  herd  by  hundreds.  They  started  life 
with  a  training  that  would  have  fitted  them  to  swell 
the  crowded  ranks  of  the  desperate  classes,  under 
which  they  would  perhaps  have  ended  their  days  in 
the  prison  or  on  the  gallows.  But  a  kind  Providence 
brought  them  within  the  reach  of  these  Mission  Homes, 
and  they  were  saved  —  saved  to  themselves,  saved  to 
society,  saved  to  their  Savior;  for  all  of  them  are 
devout  members  of  the  church  of  God,  and  earnest 
laborers  in  the  mission  work  of  the  city. 


214  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XXII. 

THE    BOWERY. 

BOWERY   ON   SUNDAY. — LAGER  BEER   GARDENS.  —  A  WALK  UP  THE  AVENUE. 

THIS  great  thoroughfare  begins  with  Chatham  Square 
and  ends  with  Eighth  Street.  It  runs  parallel  with 
Broadway,  and  is  the  second  principal  street  of  the 
city.  Its  stores,  warehouses,  and  dwellings  are  inferior 
to  the  great  thoroughfare  of  the  city.  Bowery  has  the 
reputation  of  cheap  trade,  without  being  disreputable. 
The  respectable  stores  are  few.  The  great  mass  of 
traders  are  foreigners.  The  Jews  are  numerous,  and 
have  here  their  headquarters  of  cheap  jewelry,  cheap 
furniture  and  clothing.  Saloons,  u  free-and-easies," 
and  immense  German  lager  beer  gardens  are  here  lo- 
cated. Pawnbrokers  flourish,  dealers  in  lottery  policies 
abound.  It  is  the  great  rendezvous  for  cheap  milliners 
and  small  traders. 

THE   BOWERY    ON    SUNDAY. 

To  be  seen  in  its  glory,  the  Bowery  must  be  visited 
on  Sunday  morning  and  night.  Broadway  is  quiet, 
the  lower  part  of  the  city  still,  but  Bowery  is  alive 
with  excitement.  The  clothing  establishments  of  the 
Hebrews  are  opened  for  trade.  Many  of  this  race  are 


IN  NEW  YORK.  215 

apothecaries,  jewellers,  and  keepers  of  drinking  saloons. 
These  men  have  no  conscience  in  regard  to  the  Chris- 
tian Sabbath.  Early  they  are  at  their  places  of  busi- 
ness. Their  stands  on  the  sidewalk  are  crowded,  and, 
as  their  custom  is,  they  solicit  trade  from  all  passers 
by.  The  degraded  population  who  live  in  the  filthy 
region  east  of  Bowery,  from  Catherine  to  Canal  Streets, 
come  up  on  to  the  pavement  of  this  broad  thoroughfare 
to  breathe  and  drive  their  trade.  Early  in  the  morn- 
ing troops  of  young  girls  can  be  seen,  thinly  clad  and 
barefooted,  on  their  way  to  the  dram-shops.  These 
shops  are  very  numerous,  and,  with  the  lager  beer 
gardens,  are  opened  early,  and  are  crowded.  These 
places  are  mostly  kept  by  Germans.  The  Italians  and 
Irish  are  also  in  the  business.  On  the  afternoon  of 
Sunday,  Bowery,  for  its  entire  length,  is  crowded.  At 
night  it  is  brilliantly  illuminated,  and  the  drinking- 
places  are  filled  by  thousands  of  women,  children,  and 
men.  The  lowest  drinking-places,  the  vilest  concert- 
saloons,  negro  minstrelsy  of  the  lowest  order,  and  the- 
atricals the  most  debasing,  distinguish  the  pastimes  of 
the  Bowery.  These  places,  open  on  Sunday,  are 
jammed  to  suffocation  Sunday  nights.  Actresses  too 
corrupt  and  dissolute  to  play  anywhere  else  appear 
on  the  boards  at  the  Bowery.  Broad  farces,  indecent 
comedies,  plays  of  highwaymen,  and  murderers,  are  re- 
ceived with  shouts  by  the  reeking  crowd  that  fill  the 
low  theatres.  News-boys,  street-sweepers,  rag-pickers, 
begging  girls,  collectors  of  cinders,  and  all  who  can  beg 
or  steal  a  sixpence,  fill  the  galleries  of  these  corrupt 
places  of  amusement.  There  is  not  a  dance-cellar,  a 
free-and-easy,  a  concert-saloon,  or  a  vile  drinking-place, 


216  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

that  presents  such  a  view  of  the  depravity  and  degra- 
dation of  New  York  as  the  gallery  of  a  Bowery  theatre. 

LAGER   BEER   .GARDENS. 

These  immense  establishments,  patronized  by  the 
Germans,  are  located  in  the  Bowery.  They  will  hold 
from  a  thousand  to  fifteen  hundred  persons.  The 
Atlantic  Gardens  will  seat  comfortably,  up  stairs  and 
down,  one  thousand.  All  day  on  Sunday  they  are 
filled.  People  are  coming  and  going  all  the  while. 
The  rooms  are  very  neat,  and  even  tastefully  fitted  up, 
as  all  German  places  of  amusement  ar6.  The  vilest  of 
them  have  a  neatness  and  an  attractiveness  not  found 
among  any  other  nation.  The  music  is  first  class.  A 
piano,  harp,  violin,  drums,  and  brass  instruments,  are 
played  by  skilful  performers.  The  Germans  visit  these 
gardens  to  spend  the  day.  They  are  eminently  social. 
They  come,  husband  and  wife,  with  all  the  children, 
brothers  aq^*sist6rs,  cousins  and  neighbors  ;  nor  are  the 
old  folks  omitted.  The  family  bring  with  them  a 
basket  of  provisions,  as  if  they  were  on  a  picnic.  Com- 
fortable rooms  are  provided  for  their  entertainment 
They  gather  as  a  family  around  a  table.  They  ex- 
change social  greetings,  and  enjoy  to  their  bent  the 
customs  of  their  fatherland.  They  play  dominoes, 
cards,  dice ;  they  sing,  they  shout,  they  dance  ;  in  some 
places  billiards  and  bowling  are  added,  with  rifle  shoot- 
ing. The  room  and  entertainment  are  free  to  all.  A 
welcome  is  extended  to  every  coiner.  The  long  bar, 
immense  in  extent,  tells  the  story.  Here  the  landlord, 
his  wife,  and  may  be  his  daughters,  with  numerous 
waiters,  furnish  the  lager  beer  which  sustains  the 


*  •/ 

**••>• 


r' 


IN  NEW  YORK.  217 

establishment  The  quantity  sold  in  a  day  is  enormous. 
A  four-horse  team  from  the  brewery,  drawing  the 
favorite  beverage,  finds  it  difficult  to  keep  up  the  sup- 
ply. A  large  portion  of  the  visitors  are  young  lads 
and  girls.  Those  who  serve  out  the  beer  are  girls 
from  twelve  to  sixteen  years  old,  dressed  in  tawdry 
array,  with  short  dresses,  red-topped  boots  with  bells 
attached ;  they  are  frowzy,  have  an  unwholesome  look, 
with  lines  of  lasciviousness  furrowed  on  their  young 
faces.  So  immensely  profitable  is  the  sale  of  lager 
beer  in  these  gardens,  that  the  proprietors  are  willing 
to  pay  at  any  time  five  hundred  dollars  to  any  large 
association  who  will  spend  the  day  on  their  premises. 

A   WALK   UP   THE   AVENUE. 

Leaving  the  City  Hall  about  six  o'clock  on  Sunday 
night,  and  walking  through  Chatham  Square  to  the 
Bowery,  one  would  not  believe  that  New  York  had 
any  claim  to  be  a  Christian  city,  or  that  the  Sabbath 
had  any  friends.  The  shops  are  open,  and  trade  is 
brisk.  Abandoned  females  go  in  swarms,  and  crowd 
the  sidewalk.  Their  dress,  manner,  and  language  indi- 
cate that  depravity  can  go  no  lower.  Young  men 
known  as  Irish- Americans,  who  wear  as  a  badge  very 
long  black  frock-coats,  crowd  the  corners  of  the  streets, 
and  insult  the  passer  by.  Women  from  the  windows 
arrest  attention  by  loud  calls  to  the  men  on  the  side- 
walk, and  jibes,  profanity,  and  bad  words  pass  between 
the  parties.  Sunday  theatres,  concert-saloons,  and 
places  of  amusement  are  in  full  blast.  The  Italians 
and  Irish  shout  out  their  joy  from  the  rooms  they 


218  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

occupy.  The  click  of  the  billiard  ball,  and  the  boom- 
ing of  the  ten-pin  alley,  are  distinctly  heard.  Before 
midnight,  victims  watched  for  will  be  secured  ;  men 
heated  with  liquor,  or  drugged,  will  be  robbed ;  and 
many  curious  and  bold  explorers  in  this  locality  will 
curse  the  hour  in  which  they  resolved  to  spend  a  Sun- 
day in  the  Bowery. 


IN  NEW  YORE.  219 


XXIII. 

PHILIP    PHILLIPS,     THE    CHRISTIAN 
VOCALIST. 

HIS    EARLY    LIFE.  —  HE     REMOVES     WEST. — HIS     APPEARANCE,    AND   MANNER 
AS   A   SINGER. — PRESIDENT   LINCOLN   AND   MR.    PHILLIPS. 

PROFESSIONAL  singing  is  quite  common  in  this  me- 
tropolis. Men  and  women  trained  to  song,  and  gifted 
in  the  fine  art,  are  many.  The  opera,  the  concert-hall, 
the  system  of  quartet  choirs,  afford  a  fine  field  for 
persons  of  rare  gifts  and  cultivated  taste.  The  authors 
of  church  music  have  made  a  repute  and  a  fortune. 
There  is  no  surer  road  to  popularity  than  to  become 
the  author  of  a  popular  tune  that  can  be  sung  in  church, 
in  Sabbath  school,  and  in  the  household.  It  is  a  rare 
thing  to  find  a  popular  composer  and  a  popular  singer 
in  the  same  person.  It  is  still  more  rare  to  find  one 
willing  to  devote  himself  wholly  to  sacred  song  for 
religious  purposes ;  to  preach,  exhort,  warn,  and  com- 
fort by  songs  of  praise,  and  to  use  the  instrument  of 
music  and  the  voice  for  the  same  purpose  that  the 
ministry  employs  its  talent.  In  this  work  Mr.  Phillips 
has  long  been  engaged,  and  to  it  has  consecrated  his 
life  and  talents.  He  is  a  member  of  the  Methodist 
Church.  He  has  been  appointed  the  musical  editor  of 


220  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  sacred  songs  of  that  important  body,  and  is  un- 
doubtedly the  most  persuasive,  and  eloquent  singer  of 
divine  songs  that  the  church  has  known  since  the  days 
of  the  Wesleys.  His  singing  has  about  it  the  silvery 
persuasiveness  that  marked  the  sermons  of  Summer- 
field. 

HIS   EARLY   LIFE. 

He  was  born  in  Chatauqua  County,  N.  Y.  His  father 
was  an  artisan,  and  he  was  trained  to  rugged  employ- 
ment, and  suffered  many  privations,  and  knew  what  it 
was  to  struggle  with  hardships.  The  death  of  his 
mother  deprived  him  of  a  home,  and  he  went  to  reside 
with  his  uncle.  He  was  bound  out  to  serve  his  relative 
by  working  on  the  farm  till  he  was  twenty-one  years 
of  age.  His  uncle  was  a  hard  master,  but  death  re- 
leased Philip  at  an  early  day  from  his  toils.  His  talent 
for  music  was  early  developed.  He  mastered  the  rudi- 
ments of  music  by  his  own  indefatigable  labor,  and 
opened  a  school  when  he  was  but  seventeen.  He  gave 
a  concert,  at  which  he  sang,  and  realized  the  sum  of 
sixty-one  dollars.  This  encouragement  induced  him  to 
abandon  farming,  and  turn  his  attention  to  music. 

HE   REMOVES  WEST. 

He  settled  at  Marion,  Ohio,  as  a  musical  conductor. 
His  peculiar  gifts  became  manifest,  and  he  was  called 
to  sing  before  Sunday-school  concerts,  Young  Men's 
Christian  Associations,  and  for  religious  gatherings 
generally.  He  is  a  man  of  warm  sympathies,  of  ardent, 
enthusiastic  piety,  a  firm  believer  that  Christ  claims  all 
the  gift  he  has  of  song,  and  he  freely  gives  to  charita- 
ble and  religious  services  his  time  and  labors.  He 


IN  NEW  YORK.  221 

found  few  tunes  sufficiently  devout  and  fervent  to  suit 
him,  and  he  became  a  composer  from  necessity.  The 
most  beautiful  and  popular  Sunday-school  songs  in  the 
language  are  from  his  pen.  His  publication,  the 
"Spring  Blossoms,"  had  a  circulation  of  twenty  thou- 
sand copies.  He  removed  to  Cincinnati,  and  there 
published  his  "  Musical  Leaves,"  of  which  forty  thou- 
sand copies  were  sold  in  four  months.  Out  of  these 
books  grew  the  "  Singing  Pilgrim,"  based  on  Bunyan's 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  which  has  had  the  astonishing  sale 
of  five  hundred  thousand  copies.  In  the  compilation 
of  this  remarkable  book  Mr.  Phillips  resolved  to  secure 
a  singing  book  that  should  touch  the  heart,  and  be  full 
of  Christian  experience  and  the  songs  of  the  Bible. 
He  starts  with  Christian  as  he  leaves  the  City  of  De- 
struction, and  with  song  and  melody  attends  him  all 
the  way  till  he  reaches  the  River  of  Death,  and  is  safe 
in  the  Celestial  City.  Visiting  New  York  in  relation 
to  some  of  his  musical  publications,  he  was  appointed 
musical  editor  to  the  Methodist  Church.  He  has  just 
completed  the  new  hymn  and  tune  book  called  "An 
Offering  of  Praise,"  which  has  been  published  by  the 
Book  Concern.  It  is  unquestionably  the  best  collection 
of  sacred  songs  in  the  language.  This  engagement 
led  Mr.  Phillips  to  settle  permanently  in  New  York. 
His  services  have  been  in  requisition  at  all  Christian 
gatherings.  His  music  is  adapted  to  the  Sunday  school 
and  the  church,  to  patriotic  and  beneficent  gatherings, 
and  the  Young  Men's  Associations.  He  can  fill  any 
house  when  it  is  announced  that  he  will  sing. 


222  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


HIS   APPEARANCE,   AND   MANNER  AS   A   SINGER. 

Mr.  Phillips  has  a  peculiar  gift  of  song,  and  his  whole 
make-up  aids  him  in  the  work  to  which  he  has  devoted 
himself.  He  is  small  in  stature  and  fragile  in  build. 
He  has  dark  hair,  a  sharp  eye,  his  face  is  pale,  and  his 
whole  countenance  bears  the  expression  that  the  old 
painters  liked  to  catch  when  they  put  on  canvas  the 
face  of  a  recluse  who  had  devoted  himself  to  Christ  and 
good  works.  His  is  a  blended  air  of  benevolence, 
consecration,  and  sincere  piety.  His  heart  is  so  evi- 
dently in  his  work,  the  warm-hearted  Christian  man, 
and  not  the  artist,  is  so  clearly  before  the  audience, 
that  he  wins  their  sympathy  before  he  sings  a  note. 
There  is  such  an  entire  freedom  from  cant  and  affecta- 
tion, he  is  so  hearty  and  whole-souled,  that  he  puts  him- 
self at  once  in  sympathy  with  every  one  in  the  house. 
Children  love  him,  and  old  age  would  take  him  to  its 
arms.  His  countenance  is  transparent,  and  on  it  is 
written  every  phase  of  song.  Love,  hope,  faith,  joy, 
fear,  sympathy,  sorrow,  affliction,  trouble  and  triumph, 
'are  read  on  his  face.  His  voice  is  clear  and  musical. 
It  sweeps  from  the  lowest  bass  to  the  highest  register. 
In  a  tender,  pathetic  song,  its  soft,  low,  and  sweet  tones, 
which  can  scarcely  be  heard,  captivate  ;  then  it  sweeps 
along  till  it  rattles  like  musketry,  and  breaks  on  the 
ear  like  the  discharge  of  cannon.  It  is  full  of  those 
plaintive  minor  tones  that  ravish  and  linger,  and  that 
you  never  hear  so  much  but  that  you  wish  to  hear 
more.  Other  men  have  voices  as  sonorous  and  clear ; 
others  have  faces  as  expressive,  hearts  as  full  of  love 
to  the  Savior,  have  consecrated  themselves  as  entirely 


IN  NEW  YORK.  223 

to  the  service  of  religion ;  but  men  are  few  who  com- 
bine all  these  great  gifts  and  rare  attainments. 

Whether  he  sings  in  the  Academy  of  Music,  the 
Halls  of  Congress  at  Washington,  or  in  our  largest 
churches,  in  any  section  of  the  country,  his  audience 
is  limited  only  by  the  capacity  of  the  house.  At  the 
appointed  time  he  seats  himself  at  his  instrument, 
usually  an  American  organ,  and  immediately  addresses 
himself  to  the  work  before  him.  Much  of  the  music 
is  solos,  and  he  accompanies  himself  on  the  organ. 
Most  of  the  music  too,  is  of  his  own  composition,  very 
peculiar,  adapted  to  his  voice  and  manner,  and  yet  very 
popular  through  the  land.  He  is  master  of  his  audi- 
ence ;  he  teaches,  preaches,  exhorts,  warns,  persuades, 
but  it  is  for  Christ  that  he  sings  and  speaks.  This 
theme  pervades  the  entire  service  of  song.  His  audi- 
ence are  moved  as  the  autumn  leaves  are  by  the  strong 
winds  of  heaven.  They  follow  him  as  a  triumphant 
leader  is  followed.  Tears  are  wiped  from  the  eye ; 
joy  thrills  the  heart ;  his  plaintive  tones  fill  the  au- 
ditor with  sympathy ;  a  genial  smile  flashes  on  every 
face,  and  the  triumphal  shout  often  comes  to  the  lip. 

PRESIDENT   LINCOLN    AND   MR.   PHILLIPS. 

Just  before  his  death,  President  Lincoln  heard  Mr. 
Phillips  sing  in  the  Hall  of  Kepresentatives,  Washing- 
ton. The  hall  was  densely  packed  with  the  most  dis- 
tinguished men  and  women  of  the  nation.  The  Sec- 
retary of  State  presided.  Mr.  Phillips  sang  his  cele- 
brated song,  entitled  "  Your  Mission."  Among  the 
stanzas  are  these :  - — 


224  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

"  If  you  cannot  on  the  ocean 

Sail  among  the  swiftest  fleet, 
Rocking  on  the  highest  billows, 

Laughing  at  the  storms  you  meet, 
You  can  stand  among  the  sailors, 

Anchored  yet  within  the  bay ; 
You  can  lend  a  hand  to  help  them 

As  they  launch  their  boat  away. 

"  If  you  have  not  gold  and  silver 

Ever  ready  to  command ; 
If  you  cannot  towards  the  needy 

Reach  an  ever  open  hand, 
You  can  visit  the  afflicted ; 

O'er  the  erring  you  can  weep ; 
You  can  be  a  true  disciple, 

Sitting  at  the  Savior's  feet. 

"  If  you  cannot  in  the  conflict 

Prove  yourself  a  soldier  true; 
If,  where  fire  and  smoke  are  thickest, 

There's  no  work  for  you  to  do ; 
When  the  battle-field  is  silent, 

You  can  go,  with  careful  tread  ; 
You  can  bear  away  the  wounded, 

You  can  cover  up  the  dead." 

Mr.  Lincoln  was  greatly  overcome  by  this  song.  He 
sent  up  to  Mr.  Seward  this  characteristic  request :  — 

"  Near  the  close  let  us  have  '  Your  Mission '  repeated 
by  Mr.  Phillips.  Don't  say  I  called  for  it. 

"A.  LINCOLN." 

Mr.  Phillips  has  been  before  the  public  as  a  singer 
for  more  than  a  dozen  years.  As  a  vocalist  and  com- 
poser his  popularity  has  been  universal  and  continuous. 
He  maintains  the  same  child-like  spirit,  with  the  sim- 
plicity of  an  earnest  Christian  man,  that  marked  the 
opening  of  his  career.  He  is  not  puffed  up,  nor  is  he 
vain.  He  has  a  sweet,  catholic  spirit,  and  his  services 


IN  NEW  YORK.  225 

are  given  to  all  who  love  the  Savior,  without  regard  to 
denominational  names.  He  is  very  benevolent,  and 
his  generous  gifts  to  every  form  of  beneficence  and 
Christian  effort  are  unceasing ;  great  meetings  of  the 
church  can  always  count  on  the  aid  of  Mr.  Phillips. 
His  generous  deeds,  and  his  large  donations  to  charitable 
purposes,  the  results  of  his  singing,  will  not  be  known 
this  side  of  the  grave.  Amid  all  the  instrumentalities 
at  work  among  the  lowly,  and  the  agencies  employed 
to  redeem  and  bless,  none  among  us  are  more  edifying, 
spiritual,  devotional,  and  powerful  than  the  labors  of 
Mr.  Phillips,  with  his  sanctifying  songs.  Such  a  con- 
secration of  rare  gifts  is  as  noble  and  praiseworthy  as 
it  is  rare. 

15 


226  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XXIV. 

SAILORS     IN    NEW    YORK. 

JACK    ON    SHORE.  —  LAND-SHARKS.  —  BETHELS.  — WATER    STREET    RAMBLE. 

JACK    ON    SHORE. 

AMONG  the  most  neglected  of  the  population  of  New 
York  the  sailor  will  be  found.  Something  is  done  for 
him,  not  much,  and  few  avail  themselves  of  the  little 
assistance  that  is  presented.  A  few  chapels  along  the 
East  and  North  Rivers,  known  as  Bethels,  contain  on 
Sunday  a  handful  of  the  sons  of  the  sea.  A  few  Homes 
have  been  erected,  but  the  charges  of  extortion  and 
cruelty,  and  the  bad  repute  that  hangs  around  them, 
turn  even  moral  sailors  to  the  common  boarding-houses 
for  seamen.  Thousands  of  them  live  in  places  of 
degradation,  where  they  love  to  be.  Now,  as  for 
generations  past,  the  story  of  a  New  York  sailor  is  told 
in  a  few  words.  Home  from  a  long  voyage,  he  is  seized 
by  men  who  lay  in  wait  for  him ;  enticed  into  some  one 
of  the  many  dens  where  sailors  congregate,  vile  liquor  is 
given  to  him  in  abundance ;  women,  hardened,  cruel, 
and  vile,  rob  him  of  all  his  cash ;  in  a  drunken  spree 
he  is  turned  into  the  street;  he  signs  the  shipping 
articles,  and  is  beyond  Sandy  Hook  before  he  awakes 
from  his  drunken  revelry. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  227 


HOMES    FOR    SEAMEN. 

Jack  has  his  abode  in  New  York  as  well  as  the 
aristocracy,  although  its  location  is  somewhat  different. 
Any  one  can  find  him  who  wishes  to.  Where  the  lanes 
are  the  darkest  and  filthiest,  where  the  dens  are  the 
deepest  and  foulest,  where  the  low  bar-rooms,  groggeries, 
and  dance-houses  are  the  most  numerous,  where  the 
vilest  women  and  men  abide,  in  the  black  sea  of  drunk- 
enness, lewdness,  and  sin,  the  sailor  has  his  New  York 
home.  In  one  street  there  are  more  than  a  hundred 
houses  for  seamen,  and  each  one  viler  than  in  any  other 
locality  in  New  York.  His  landlord  keeps  him  in  debt. 
He  is  robbed  in  a  few  days  of  all  his  hard-earned  wages, 
—  robbed  boldly  by  daylight,  andlie  has  no  redress.  A 
walk  along  this  single  street  reveals  a  sight  not  to  be 
found  in  any  other  part  of  the  city,  not  to  be  exceeded 
by  any  other  vile  locality  in  the  world  ;  —  a  hundred 
houses,  located  on  both  sides  of  the  street,  the  most 
infamous  in  the  city,  where  brawls,  rioting,  robberies, 
and  murders  take  place  ;  a  hundred  dance-houses,  whose- 
unblushing  boldness  throws  open  doors  and  windows, 
that  all  who  will  may  look  in  on  the  motley  group  of 
boys  and  old  women,  girls  and  old  men,  seamen  and 
landsmen,  reeking  with  drunkenness,  obscenity,  and 
blasphemy ;  hundreds  of  low  groggeries,  each  crowded 
with  customers,  black  and  white,  old  and  young,  foreign 
and  native  !  All  along  the  sidewalk  women  sit,  stand, 
or  recline;  women  clean  and  women  filthy;  neatly 
dressed  and  in  the  vilest  array ;  women  at  work,  and 
modest,  apparently,  as  can  be  found  in  any  street,  steadi- 
ly at  their  employ,  with  children  around  them ;  women 


228  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

who  load  the  air  with  vilest  imprecations,  and  assault 
the  passer  by  with  insolence,  ribaldry,  and  profanity. 


SAILOR   DANCE-HOUSES. 


The  dance-houses  kept  by  the  Germans  are  very 
neat,  tasty,  and  attractive.  The  bar  which  stands  by 
the  door  is  as  elegant  as  that  at  the  St.  Nicholas  or  Fifth 
Avenue  Hotel.  Polished  counters,  brass  railings  bur- 
nished like  gold,  huge  looking-glasses  reflecting  back  the 
elegant  decanters  and  bottles  in  the  rear,  flowers, 
pictures,  statuary,  paintings,  make  the  place  equal  to 
any  gin  palace  in  London.  The  decoy  dancers  are  of 
the  better  class,  but  persons  on  the  direct  road  to  the 
lowest  stratum.  Pianos  exquisitely  played,  with  harp 
and  viol  and  other  instruments,  make  music  of  which 
Wallack  would  not  be  ashamed.  Captains,  mates,  long- 
shoremen, and  the  higher  order  of  seamen,  patronize 
these  better  class  establishments,  and  commence  here 
their  travels  in  the  path  that  leads  to  death.  By  the 
side  of  these  more  genteel  sailor  dance-houses  will  be 
seen  dwellings  of  the  lower  grade.  Some  of  them  are 
in  low,  damp  cellars,  down  rickety  stairs,  with  white- 
washed walls  and  a  fetid  atmosphere,  where  a  dozen 
of  the  most  degraded  creatures  can  be  found,  bloated, 
bold,  blasphemous,  dressed  in  short  scarlet  or  fancy 
dresses  and  red  boots,  presenting  a  ghastly  and  sicken- 
ing sight.  The  room  dimly  lighted  by  candles,  a  negro 
playing  on  a  wheezing  fiddle,  a  group  of  men  in  ap- 
pearance and  manners  to  match  the  women,  make  not 
a  bad  specimen  of  Pandemonium.  Here  all  night  long 
the  sound  of  revelry,  the  shouts  of  the  drunken,  and 
oaths  of  reeking  blasphemy,  can  be  heard.  The  keeper 


IN  NEW   YORK.  229 

of  the  den,  the  most  desperate  of  his  class,  stands  at 
the  door.  He  welcomes  all  comers,  and  admission  is 
free.  All  who  come  have  a  partner  assigned  them. 
The  lewd  and  boisterous  dance  begins ;  at  its  close  all 
go  up  to  the  bar  to  drink.  The  wife  of  the  keeper  — 
or  the  one  who  passes  for  his  wife  —  presides  over 
this  department,  which  corresponds  to  the  vile  den  in 
which  it  stands.  The  customers  pay  for  the  entertain- 
ment and  the  music  by  treating  themselves  and  their 
companions.  The  drinks  over,  the  dancing  commences 
again.  After  every  round  all  present  go  up  and  drink, 
and  alternate  drinking  and  dancing  continue  through 
the  night.  No  one  is  allowed  to  remain  unless  he  joins 
in  the  dance.  Should  he  refuse  to  pay  for  the  liquor, 
he  would  be  hustled  out  of  the  cellar  on  to  the  side- 
walk, and  probably  brutally  assaulted.  The  landlord  is 
usually  able  to  do  this  himself.  A  bully,  brutal  and  as 
rugged  as  an  ox,  he  is  always  able  to  defend  himself. 
If  not,  he  has  companions  within  call.  All  the  desperate 
women,  at  a  signal  from  their  keeper,  like  bloodhounds, 
would  tear  a  man  to  pieces.  Customers  come  in,  take  a 
dance,  treat  the  company,  and  depart.  Some  remain 
for  an  hour  or  two  ;  some  are  carried  off  senseless,  for 
the  vile  liquor  is  often  drugged ;  some  are  removed  to 
foul  dens  that  surround  the  place,  and  are  never  heard 
of  more.  Stupefied  and  robbed,  many  are  sent  to  sea 
and  never  return ;  many  are  foully  dealt  with.  Poor 
Jack's  millennium  is  far  in  the  future! 


230  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LAND-SHARKS. 

This  term  is  applied  to  a  class  of  men,  rapacious, 
tyrannical,  brutal,  and  degraded,  who  hold  the  New 
York  sailor  in  their  grip,  and  never  relinquish  their 
hold  till  he  is  beyond  Sandy  Hook,  and  who  grasp 
him  before  he  lands  on  his  return  voyage.  From 
necessity  or  choice,  ship  captains  play  into  the  hands 
of  these  desperadoes,  make  them  of  importance,  and 
help  them  to  fleece  the  sailor,  and  to  hold  him  in 
degrading  tyranny.  Their  character  and  their  busi- 
ness are  well  known  to  merchants  and  to  commanders 
of  vessels.  Next  to  the  pilot  they  board  the  vessel  off 
Sandy  Hook,  fasten  on  the  sailor,  and  secure  him  and 
his  luggage.  Some  few  captains  will  not  allow  these 
land-sharks  on  board.  But  when  resisted,  so  desperate 
are  they  that  they  have  to  be  beaten  off  by  clubs.  A 
resolute  captain  often  has  to  put  his  flag  at  half-mast, 
and  call  the  police  boat  to  his  assistance.  The  police 
have  sometimes  to  shoot  these  fellows  before  they  can 
be  driven  back.  The  captain  engages  a  crew  from 
these  men.  Owing  to  the  system  of  advanced  wages, 
sailors  go  to  sea  in  debt,  and  so  the  land-sharks  get  their 
wages  from  the  captain,  get  the  men  drunk,  and  hustle 
them  on  board  the  vessels  for  a  long  voyage.  On 
board  the  ship,  the  sailor  awakes  from  his  debauch, 
and  finds  himself  without  clothing,  friendless  and  pen- 
niless. He  does  not  know  who  shipped  him,  what  ship 
he  is  on,  or  where  he  is  going.  When  he  comes  back 
he  will  find  a  long  account  run  up  against  him,  said  to 
have  been  contracted  while  he  was  drunk.  Again  he 
will  be  robbed  of  his  earnings,  kept  on  shore  as  long  as 


IN   NEW   YORK.  231 

it  is  profitable  to  keep  him,  drugged,  and  sent  again  to 
sea.  A  few  merchants  made  an  attempt  to  separate 
the  sailors  from  these  miscreants.  The  captains  were 
ordered  to  find  their  men  elsewhere,  and  to  have  no 
connection  with  the  land-sharks.  Sailors  could  not  be 
found.  Vessels  loaded  and  ready  for  sea  remained  at 
the  wharves.  The  terrible  power  of  the  landlords  was 
found  in  the  fact  that  not  a  seaman  could  be  found  in 
New  York  to  man  the  ships.  For  two  weeks  the 
merchants  held  out,  and  then  yielded  by  a  compromise. 
But  that  compromise  established  the  power  of  this 
depraved  class.  Fraud,  extortion,  robbery  and  crime 
had  a  new  lease  of  life.  The  vilest  dens  for  boarding- 
houses,  the  deadliest  rum,  the  basest  companions,  gam- 
blers and  women,  lodgings  in  cellars  where  no  human 
being  ought  to  be  kept,  bad  literature,  bad  songs  and 
corrupting  music,  hold  as  in  chains  of  steel  the  New 
York  sailor. 

BETHELS. 

All  along  the  North  and  East  Eivers  are  chapels  for 
seamen.  The  Baptists,  Episcopalians,  Methodists,  and 
Presbyterians  have  each  a  seamen's  Bethel,  floating  or 
on  shore.  One  bright  Sunday  morning  I  visited  several 
of  these  seamen  churches.  It  was  evident  that  religion 
has  but  a  feeble  hold  on  the  sons  of  the  sea.  It  is 
estimated  that  there  are  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
sailors  belonging  to  the  port  of  New  York.  Of  these  I 
suppose  not  a'  thousand  can  be  found  in  all  the  places 
of  worship  assigned  to  them.  A  very  sparse  attend- 
ance is  seen  in  these  places  of  worship,  and  the  ma- 
jority are  the  friends  of  the  sailor  rather  than  the  sailor 
himself.  The  English  and  Scotch,  known  as  from  the 


232  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

old  country,  attend  the  Episcopal  Bethel.  The  great 
mass  of  sailors  in  New  York  prefer  to  spend  their  Sun- 
days in  drinking,  gambling,  dancing,  and  carousing. 
A  few  earnest,  devoted  missionaries  move  round  among 
them,  and  try  to  do  them  good.  Bibles  and  tracts 
are  scattered  on  the  right  hand  and  on  the  left.  But 
what  are  these  among  thousands  of  bold,  bad  women, 
vicious  books,  corrupting  pictures,  lascivious  poetry, 
and  debasing  songs  ? 

WATER    STREET   RAMBLE. 

A  walk  along  Water  Street  of  a  Sunday  afternoon, 
or  any  night  in  the  week,  will  give  a  better  idea  of  the 
degradation  of  the  sailor,  and  the  vicious  influences  that 
surround  him,  than  any  pen  can  describe.  By  day  the 
streets  and  sidewalks  are  literally  crowded.  Every 
house  is  a  trap,  and  every  person  a  destroyer.  With- 
out decency,  without  shame,  the  vile  population  herd 
on  the  pavement,  fill  the  air  with  blasphemy,  hail 
the  sailor  with  imprecations  and  profanity,  and  shout 
back  and  forth  from  one  side  of  the  street  to  the  other 
in  language  shocking  to  every  moral  sense.  At  night 
every  room  and  cellar  is  a  dance-house,  reeking  with 
pestilential  vapors,  and  crowded  with  debased  men  and 
women ;  the  sound  of  the  piano,  viol,  and  harp  are  heard 
on  all  sides  with  the  sounds  of  the  revellers.  The  wo- 
men who  dwell  in  this  quarter  are  the  lowest  and  most 
debased  of  their  class.  They  stand  on  thfe  lowest  round 
of  the  ladder,  that  leads  down  to  the  deepest  infamy. 
Crime  and  vice  has  done  its  worst  with  them.  The 
lowest  degradation  that  a  woman  can  reach,  they  have 


IN  NEW  YOUK.  233 

reached.  Their  next  remove  is  to  the  almshouse, 
penitentiary,  or  to  a  pauper's  burial.  Their  dress  is 
flashy,  untidy,  covered  with  tinsel,  while  they  are 
loaded  down  with  brass  jewelry.  Their  coarse  hair  is 
dressed  in  the  latest  fashion,  their  dresses  short,  arms 
and  neck  bare,  and  their  appearance  as  disgusting  as 
can  be  conceived.  They  have  no  ambition.  They  work 
for  their  daily  bread  and  a  shelter  for  their  heads, 
liable  at  any  minute  to  have  their  finery  stripped  from 
them  and  to  be  turned  into  the  streets.  The  love  of 
drink  is  all  that  remains.  They  know  that  with  every 
round  of  the  dance  they  will  go  to  the  bar  and  quench, 
for  a  moment,  the  fierce  flame  that  nearly  consumes 
them.  Their  brutal  master  stands  in  the  centre  of  the 
floor,  and  keeps  them  at  their  hard  and  repulsive  work. 
They  rest  but  a  moment  upon  the  hard  benches,  be- 
tween the  dances,  as  the  new  comers  must  be  served, 
and  the  profits  of  the  bar  kept  up.  The  most  brutal, 
profane,  and  insulting  language  is  addressed  by  the 
keeper  to  the  dancing-women  of  his  house.  If  they 
falter,  if  they  hesitate,  if  from  weariness  they  hang 
back,  or  from  fatigue  are  unable  to  rise,  they  are 
covered  with  horrid  imprecations,  torrents  of  abuse  are 
poured  upon  them,  or  they  are  knocked  down  by  the 
bully,  and  brutally  beaten  by  the  tyrant  that  lords  it 
over  them.  The  career  of  these  women  is  short. 
Poverty,  crime,  disease,  suffering,  soon  do  their  work. 

In  such  a  locality  and  in  such  society  the  New 
York  sailor  loves  to  dwell.  From  these  stews  and 
dens  the  men  are  taken  on  whose  fidelity  the  lives 
of  thousands  depend,  and  who  represent,  in  foreign 


334  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

lands,  the  intelligence,  culture,  and  religion  of  Amer- 
ica. They  furnish  the  means  by  which  men  roll  in 
wealth,  sit  in  their  crimson  pews,  and  live  in  lordly 
dwellings.  But  few  think  of  the  sailor  to  whom  the 
metropolis  is  indebted  for  its  high  place  among  the 
nations  of  the  earth,  or  attempt  his  elevation. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  235 


XXV. 

FULTON    STREET  .PRAYER-MEETING. 

EARLY  DUTCH  CHURCH.  —  FOUNDER  OF  THE  DAILY  PRAYER-MEETING. — 
FIRST  NOONDAY  MEETING.  —  ITS  PERSONALS.  —  AN  INSIDE  VIEW.  — 
FLIES  IN  THE  OINTMENT.  —  FINALE. 

EARLY    DUTCH    CHURCH. 

WE  cannot  separate  Fulton  Street  Prayer-Meeting 
from  the  Collegiate  Church  of  New  York,  for  this  body 
founded  the  prayer-meeting,  and  has  so  far  sustained 
it.  The  Collegiate  Church  is  the  original  church  of 
Manhattan.  Our  Dutch  ancestors  were  a  pious  race. 
They  scattered  themselves  from  the  Battery  to  West- 
chester,  and  from  Hackensack  to  Wallabout  Bay. 
Within  the  fort  at  the  Battery  they  built  a  church  as 
soon  as  they  landed.  It  was  a  rude  place  of  worship, 
but  precious  to  them ;  and  to  the  sanctuary  they 
gathered  every  Sunday.  Distance  was  no  hinderance. 
Some  lived  twenty  miles  away,  and  they  walked  the 
whole  distance.  They  would  not  travel  on  the  Sab- 
bath. They  started  on  foot  Saturday  afternoons,  to 
reach  the  sanctuary  before  midnight.  Worshipping  on 
the  Sabbath,  they  remained  until  after  midnight. 
When  the  Sabbath  was  fully  past,  they  took  up  their 
line  of  march.  With  the  songs  of  Marot  they  beguiled 


236  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

their  way,  and  reached  home  in  season  for  their  work 
on  Monday  .morning. 

The  Island  of  Manhattan  belonged  to  the  Dutch  by 
all  the  rights  known  to  colonists.  But  they  chose  to 
purchase  the  soil  from  the  natives  who  claimed  it. 
They  bought  it  as  really  as  Pennsylvania  was  purchased. 
They  paid  the  full  price  demanded,  sixty-six  years 
before  William  Penn  landed  an  the  New  World.  With 
great  Christian  liberality  the  Dutch  extended  the  hand 
of  friendship  to  Trinity  Church,  and  shared  the  Sabbath 
services  with  the  houseless  congregation.  When 
Trinity  settled  her  first  rector,  she  was  short-handed, 
and  the  ministers  of  the  Dutch  Church  assisted  at  the 
installation.  From  the  Battery,  the  church  established 
itself  in  what  is  now  known  as  Exchange  Place,  in  the 
rear  of  the  Merchants'  Exchange.  A  new  church  was 
reared,  and  is  now  occupied  as  a  post  office.  In  1769, 
the  North  Church  was  dedicated.  In  the  revolutionary 
war  it  was  used  as  a  prison  by  the  British,  and  marks 
of  bayonets  and  pikes  are  still  seen  in  the  sandstone. 
Two  cannons,  placed  near  the  doorway  by  the  British, 
still  remain.  A  benevolent  Dutchman  presented  to 
this  church  an  estate  known  as  the  Manor  of  Fordham. 
Another  member  gave  a  small  farm,  outside  of  the  city 
at  that  time,  and  it  was  considered  of  very  little  worth. 
It  was  that  plot  of  ground,  on  either  side  of  Fulton 
Street,  running  from  Broadway  towards  the  East  River, 
and  is  now  one  of  the  most  valuable  sites  in  New  York, 
occupied  by  massive  and  imposing  warehouses.  This 
property  makes  the  Collegiate  Church,  except  Trinity, 
the  richest  ecclesiastical  corporation  in  the  land,  and 
with  this  body  the  Fulton  Street  meeting  began. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  237 


FOUNDER    OF   THE   DAILY   PRAYER-MEETING. 

In  1857  there  was  a  general  revival  of  religion. 
The  lower  part  of  the  city  had  become  a  moral  waste. 
Trade  and  a  foreign  population  had  taken  possession 
of  the  city  below  the  City  Hall.  The  dwellings  where 
the  rich  men  at  one  time  resided  were  pulled  down  to 
make  room  for  stores.  The  dwellings  that  remained 
were  either  boarding-houses,  or  occupied  by  a  tenant 
population.  The  pulpits  in  which  the  giants  of  New 
York  had  preached  the  gospel  were  no  more.  Spring, 
Mason,  Potts,  Phillips,  Alexander,  and  others,  removed 
to  other  parts  of  the  city.  Lower  New  York  was 
deserted.  The  Old  North  Church  remained.  It  was 
put  in  complete  and  elegant  repair.  A  learned  and 
eloquent  ministry  occupied  the  pulpit.  The  house  was 
thrown  open  to  all  who  chose  to  worship  God  within 
its  walls.  It  secured  a  missionary,  in  the  person  of 
Jeremiah  Calvin  Lanphier,  a  man  of  rare  and  peculiar 
gifts,  of  unshrinking  courage,  and  marked  piety.  He 
was  not  far  from  forty  years  of  age,  tall,  and  of  a  fine 
presence,  a  winning  face,  and  a  manner  affectionate 
and  attractive.  He  possessed  great  energy  and  per- 
severance, was  a  fine  singer,  gifted  in  prayer  and  ex- 
hortation, easy  of  approach,  and  a  welcome  guest  to 
any  house ;  very  shrewd,  and  possessing  tact,  with 
good  common  sense,  he  was  eminently  fitted  for  the 
position  he  was  called  to  fill.  Anxious  to  be  a  blessing 
to  the  poor,  the  neglected,  and  the  perishing,  he  was 
equally  anxious  to  reach  the  merchants  of  New  York, 
and  lay  his  hand  in  kindness  on  young  men  in  busi- 
ness. 


238  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

Walking  in  the  street  one  day,  this  idea  suggested 
itself:  Why  not  have  a  meeting  of  prayer  for  business 
men,  at  the  hour  of  noon  when  all  go  to  lunch,  made 
up  of  singing,  prayer,  and  speaking,  allowing  persons 
to  come  and  go  during  meeting  as  they  please  ?  He 
had  been  a  merchant,  and  knew  how  difficult  it  was  to 
attend  a  devotional  meeting  in  the  evening.  The 
hour  of  noon  was  one  of  leisure  for  merchants,  clerks, 
draymen,  and  men  of  toil.  He  resolved  to  open  a  daily 
meeting  of  prayer  from  twelve  to  one ;  a  union  meet- 
ing, free  from  sectarianism,  from  which  the  cold  and 
formal  routine  of  prayer-meetings  should  be  banished  ; 
made  up  of  brief  songs,  brief  prayers,  and  brief  ad- 
dresses. No  one  should  be  allowed  to  speak  over  five 
minutes.  No  controverted  or  doctrinal  points  should 
be  introduced.  No  one  should  be  obliged  to  stay  a 
moment  longer  than  he  chose.  Parties  could  come 
in  and  go  out  at  any  moment  without  interrupting  the 
meeting.  Such  was  the  plan. 

FIRST    NOONDAY    MEETING. 

On  the  27th  day  of  November,  1857,  the  small  con- 
sistory-room connected  with  the  North  Dutch  Church 
was  thrown  open  for  service.  At  twelve  o'clock  no 
one  was  present  but  the  missionary.  He  sat  alone  one 
half  hour.  A  solitary  step  was  then  heard  on  the 
stairs,  and  a  person  entered  the  room.  All  told,  six 
persons  composed  the  little  company.  The  next  day 
twenty  persons  gathered ;  the  next,  forty.  In  October 
the  central  room  of  the  consistory  building  was  opened, 
and  from  that  time  to  this,  for  more  than  ten  years,  the 
meetings  have  been  continued  with  unabated  zeal, 


IN   NEW   YORK.  239 

ever  the  fullest  and  most  remarkable  prayer-meeting 
in  the  world. 

THE   PERSONALE   OF  THE   MEETING. 

There  is  no  plainer  room  in  New  York  than  the 
lecture-room  of  the  Dutch  Church  where  the  daily 
prayer-meeting  is  held.  It  is  in  the  second  story  of 
the  consistory-rooms  on  Fulton  Street.  The  walls  are 
covered  with  gilt  frames,  holding  the  rules,  mottoes,  and 
notices.  The  seats  are  hard,  crowded  together  to  make 
room,  and  are  very  uncomfortable.  The  surroundings 
are  unattractive,  and  little  suited  to  devotion.  In  the 
centre  of  the  busiest  portion  of  New  York  the  prayer- 
meeting  is  held.  The  bells  of  the  horse  cars,  the  shouts 
of  carmen,  the  noise  of  artisans,  the  hammer  and  saw 
of  the  carpenter,  the  whistle  of  the  steam-engine,  the 
blowing  off  of  steam,  with  other  noises  of  busy  life, 
come  directly  into  the  room.  The  singing  is  congrega- 
tional, without  instrument  or  artistic  attraction.  Old 
tunes,  revival  tunes,  and  experimental  hymns,  are 
sung.  The  missionary  who  originated  the  meeting 
has  conducted  its  music  for  ten  consecutive  years.  At 
twelve  precisely  the  leader  rises  and  gives  out  a  hymn. 
This  is  a  business  men's  meeting,  and  a  layman  usually 
presides.  He  may  be  educated  or  illiterate  ;  dressed 
as  a  merchant  or  as  a  carman.  Perhaps  he  may  be  an 
old  man,  with  his  hair  frosted  by  years  ;  he  may  be  a 
young  man,  just  commencing  a  Christian  life ;  but  he 
is  a  warm-hearted  Christian.  Before  the  meeting 
closes  the  room  will  be  packed.  Earnest  men  and 
women  will  fill  all  the  standing  room.  Every  denomi- 
nation is  here  represented.  Men  come  from  the  sea, 


240  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

from  the  mountains  of  Asia,  from  the  hot  sands  of 
Arabia,  from  India,  from  the  Old  World,  and  all  parts 
of  the  New.  This  daily  meeting  is  the  Religious  Ex- 
change of  New  York.  Eminent  men,  clerical  and  lay, 
from  all  parts  of  the  country,  and  of  the  world;  emi- 
nent ministers,  lawyers,  merchants,  look  in  on  the 
meeting.  They  bring  tidings  from  every  part  of  Zion. 
Those  who  want  to  see  and  hear  distinguished  men, 
know  they  will  find  them  in  this  place  of  prayer. 
Earnest  prayers  are  offered,  the  swelling  chorus  of 
song,  thanksgivings  for  remarkable  answers  to  prayer, 
make  the  hour  all  too  short.  Requests  for  prayer 
come  in  from  all  the  world,  covering  every  variety  of 
want  and  suffering  peculiar  to  humanity.  The  tone 
of  the  requests  shows  that  the  writers  regard  the 
Fulton  Street  meeting  as  the  pool  of  healing  to  the 
Evangelical  Church. 

AN   INSIDE   VIEW. 

The  room  is  reached  from  Fulton  or  Ann  Streets,  up 
a  covered  pathway.  The  floor  is  covered  with  matting, 
the  room  filled  with  settees.  The  missionary  stands 
at  the  door,  and  with  his  tiptoe  tread,  bland  face,  and 
resolute  will,  makes  the  ladies  move  up  and  sit  close. 
Precisely  on  the  minute  the  service  is  opened.  Such 
congregational  singing  would  be  popular  anywhere. 
The  audience  is  trained  to  sing,  being  composed  of  the 
cream  of  the  churches.  The  tunes  are  familiar,  and 
the  hymns  are  associated  with  the  heart's  warmest 
affections.  Borne  on  the  tide  of  full,  warm,  and  deep 
emotion,  the  swelling  song  of  praise  is  wafted  to 
heaven.  The  reading  of  the  requests  follows,  and  f 


IN  NEW  YORK.  241 

they  are  numerous.  They  come  from  missionary  sta- 
tions, from  the  islands  of  the  sea,  from  the  dwellers  in 
the  habitations  of  cruelty,  from  all  classes  and  condi- 
tions in  our  own  land. 

FLIES   IN    THE   OINTMENT. 

Men  who  have  hobbies  to  ride  often  annoy  the 
meeting.  Men  with  impracticable  theories  persist 
in  presenting  them.  Sometimes  men  who  have  ora- 
tory in  prayer  come  with  high-sounding  phrases, 
pompous  words,  colloquial  addresses,  to  the  King  of 
kings,  and  are  an  abomination.  Sometimes  women 
try  to  speak.  This  is  contrary  to  the  rules.  One 
day  a  lady  arose  to  make  an  address.  She  was  in- 
formed that  it  was  against  the  rules,  and  immediately 
she  sat  down.  A  tall,  masculine  woman  arose,  and 
in  a  tone  of  marked  anger,  with  a  loud,  harsh  voice, 
and  a  decided  Scotch  accent,  cried  out,  "I'll  not 
attend  this  meeting  again.  I  am  a  converted  woman 
myself.  If  our  sister  is  not  allowed  to  speak,  the 
Spirit  of  God  is  not  here.  I  am  a  converted  woman. 
I  say  that.  But  I'll  not  come  here  again ! "  and 
she  flounced  out  of  the  room.  •  Men  have  attempted, 
over  and  over  again,  to  change  the  tone  of  the 
meeting.  Impulsive  men  have  tried  to  break  the 
rules;  have  appealed  from  the  ruling  of  the  leader 
to  the  audience ;  votes  have  been  taken ;  people  have 
tried  to  sell  books,  build  churches,  and  beg  money 
out  of  the  meeting.  To  all  this  one  answer  has 
been  steadily  given :  "  This  is  a  Union  prayer-meeting. 
All  who  approve  the  plan  on  which  it  has  been 
16 


242  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

established    are  welcome.      Those  who  do  not   must 
find  a  place  of  prayer  that  suits  them." 

FINALE. 

About  a  fourth  of  the  meeting  are  ladies.  A  very 
large  number  are  young  men.  They  come  with  blank- 
books  in  their  hands,  pencils  behind  their  ears,  memo- 
randum-books peeping  out  of  their  pockets,  and  marks 
of  trade  about  them.  They  come  not  simply  as 
spectators,  but  they  bear  an  important  part  in  the 
meeting.  Carmen  and  draymen  drive  up  to  the  curb- 
stone, leave  their  teams,  and  come  in  with  frocks  on  and 
whips  in  their  hands,  and  join  heartily  in  song,  prayer, 
and  speech ;  bankers,  expressmen,  merchants,  and  me- 
chanics unite  in  the  service.  Such  a  grouping  of  classes, 
conditions,  trades,  and  sects  can  be  found  nowhere  else. 
The  formal  Churchman,  the  conservative  Dutchman, 
the  ardent  Congregationalist,  the  quiet  Friend,  the  im- 
pulsive Baptist,  the  stately  Presbyterian,  sit  side  by 
side,  while  the  hearty  "  Amen "  ringing  through  the 
chapel  indicates  that  the  Methodist  element  is  not 
wanting.  As  a  success,  as  a  meeting  of  power,  with  a 
fame  of  ten  years  which  has  followed  the  drum-beat  of 
nations  round  the  world,  this  simple,  plain,  unpretend- 
ing meeting  of  united  Christians  for  daily  prayer  is  one 
of  the  most  wonderful  institutions  of  the  metropolis. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  243 


XXVI. 

BUSINESS    REVERSES    IN    NEW    YORK. 

MIRAGE  OF  WEALTH.  —  RAILROAD  CONDUCTOR.  —  A  RAILROAD  KING.  — 
SARATOGA  BELLE.  —  ROCK  IN  THE  CHANNEL.  —  SUCCESS  A  COY  THING.  — 
OLD-SCHOOL  MERCHANTS. 

MIRAGE    OF   WEALTH. 

MEN  who  visit  New  York,  and  see  nothing  but  the 
outside  aspect  which  it  presents,  imagine  that  success 
is  one  of  the  easiest  things  in  the  world,  and  Jo  heap 
up  riches  a  mere  pastime  in  the  city.  They  are  famil- 
iar with  the  name  and  history  of  the  Astors.  They 
know  that  Stewart  began  life  a  poor  boy,  kept  store  in 
a  small  shanty,  and  kept  house  in  a  few  rooms  in  a 
dwelling,  and  boarded  his  help.  They  walk  through 
Fifth  Avenue,  and  look  on  the  outside  of  palaces  where 
men  dwell  who  left  home  a  few  years  ago  with  their 
worldly  wealth  tied  up  in  a  cotton  handkerchief.  They 
stroll  around  Central  Park,  and  magnificent  teams, 
gay  equipages,  and  gayer  ladies  and  gentlemen,  go  by 
in  a  constant  stream ;  and  men  are  pointed  out  who  a 
short  time  ago  were  grooms,  coachmen,  ticket-takers, 
boot-blacks,  news-boys,  printer's  devils,  porters,  and 
coal-heavers,  who  have  come  up  from  the  lower  walks 
of  life  by  dabbling  in  stocks,  by  a  lucky  speculation,  or 


244  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

a  sudden  turn  of  fortune.  So  young  men  pour  in  from 
the  country,  confident  of  success,  and  ignorant  that 
these  men  are  the  exceptions  to  the  general  law  of 
trade  ;  and  that  ruin  and  not  success,  defeat  and  not 
fortune,  bankruptcy  and  not  a  fine  competence,  are 
the  law  of  New  York  trade. 

Nothing  is  more  striking  or  more  sad  than  the  com- 
mercial reverses  of  this  city.  They  come  like  tempests 
and  hail  storms  which  threaten  every  man's  plantation, 
and  cut  down  the  harvest  ready  for  the  sickle.  Few 
firms  have  had  permanent  success  for  twenty-five 
years.  In  one  house  in  this  city  twenty  men  are  em- 
ployed as  salesmen  on  a  salary,  who,  ten  years  ago, 
were  called  princely  merchants,  whose  families  lived 
in  style,  and  who  led  the  fashions.  Men  who  embark 
on  the  treacherous  sea  of  mercantile  life  are  ingulfed, 
and  while  their  richly-laden  barks  go  down,  they 
escape  personally  by  the  masts  and  spars  thrown  to 
them  by  more  fortunate  adventurers.  One  house  in 
this  city,  quite  as  celebrated  at  one  time  as  Stewart's, 
who,  in  imitation  of  that  gentleman,  built  their  marble 
store  on  Broadway,  are  now  salesmen  in  establishments 
more  successful  than  their  own.  New  York  is  full  of 
reduced  merchants.  Some  of  them  bravely  bear  up 
under  their  reverses.  Some  hide  away  in  the  multitude 
of  our  people.  Some  take  rooms  in  tenant-houses. 
Some  do  a  little  brokerage  business,  given  to  them  by 
those  who  knew  them  in  better  days.  Some  take  to 
the  bottle,  and  add  moral  to  commercial  ruin. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  245 


RAILROAD    CONDUCTOR. 

Biding  down  town  one  night  in  one  of  our  city  cars, 
I  paid  my  fare  to  a  conductor  who  gave  me  a  sharp, 
searching  look.  When  below  Canal  Street,  as  there 
were  no  other  passengers  in  the  car,  he  came  and  sat 
down  beside  me.  He  said,  "I  know  you  very  well, 
though  I  suppose  you  do  not  know  me.  I  used  to  go 
to  school  with  you  in  Boston."  I  remembered  him  as 
the  son  of  a  wealthy  gentleman  not  unknown  to  fame 
in  that  city.  His  father  had  an  elegant  house  in  the 
city,  and,  what  was  then  unusual,  a  fine  mansion  in  the 
country.  The  son  was  indulged  in  luxuries  unusual  in 
that  day.  He  had  a  pony  on  which  he  rode  to  school, 
and  was  attended  by  a  servant.  He  had  a  watch  and 
other  trinkets  that  excited  the  envy  of  his  companions. 
His  father  lived  in  grand  style,  and  his  equipage 
attracted  general  attention.  He  lived  fast,  but  it  was 
said  he  could  afford  it.  To  maintain  his  position  he 
was  tempted  to  commit  a  great  crime.  Able  counsel 
saved  him  from  the  penitentiary,  but  his  ruin  was  com- 
plete, and  his  family  shared  in  the  general  wreck. 
His  children  are  now  scattered  over  the  country,  to 
earn  a  living  wherever  they  can  find  it.  This  son,  well 
educated,  tenderly  cared  for,  and  trained  to  every 
indulgence,  gets  his  as  the  conductor  of  a  city  railroad 
car,  a  calling  laborious  and  ill  paid. 

A   RAILROAD    KING. 

One  of  the  most  successful  railroad  men  of  New  York 
boarded  at  one  of  our  principal  hotels.  He  was  an 
unmarried  man.  He  was  accounted  an  eminent  and 


246  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

successful  financier.  His  reputation  and  standing  were 
unquestioned.  He  was  connected  with  the  principal 
capitalist  in  the  city,  and  was  one  whom  New  York 
delighted  to  honor.  In  a  small  house  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  city  he  had  a  home.  Here  he  lived  a  part 
of  his  time,  and  reared  a  family,  though  the  mother  of 
his  children  was  not  his  wife.  Down  town,  at  his  hotel, 
he  passed  by  one  name,  up  town,  in  his  house,  he  was 
known  by  another.  It  would  seem  impossible  that  a 
prominent  business  man,  reputed  to  be  rich,  brought 
into  daily  business  contact  with  princely  merchants 
and  bankers,  the  head  of  a  large  railroad  interest,  could 
reside  in  New  York,  and  for  a  number  of  years  lead 
the  double  life  of  a  bachelor  and  a  man  of  family ;  be 
known  by  one  name  down  town,  and  another  name  up 
town ;  yet  so  it  was.  At  his  hotel  and  at  his  office  he 
was  found  at  the  usual  hours.  To  his  up-town  home 
he  came  late  and  went  out  early.  There  he  was  seldom 
seen.  The  landlord,  the  butcher,  the  grocer,  and  the 
milkman  transacted  all  their  business  with  the  lady. 
Bills  were  promptly  paid,  and  no  questions  asked. 
The  little  girls  became  young  ladies.  They  went  to 
the  best  boarding-schools  in  the  land. 

An  unexpected  crisis  came.  A  clergyman  in  good 
standing  became  acquainted  with  one  of  the  daughters 
at  her  boarding-school.  He  regarded  her  with  so  much 
interest,  that  he  solicited  her  hand  in  marriage.  He 
was  referred  to  the  mother.  The  daughters  had  said 
that  their  father  was  a  wealthy  merchant  of  New 
York ;  but  his  name  did  not  appear  in  the  Directory, 
he  was  not  known  on  'change.  The  lover  only  knew 
the  name  by  which  the  daughters  were  called.  The 


IN  NEW  YORK.  247 

mother  was  affable,  but  embarrassed.  The  gentleman 
thought  something  was  wrong,  and  insisted  on  a  per- 
sonal interview  with  the  father.  The  time  was  ap- 
pointed for  the  interview.  The  young  man  was  greatly 
astonished  to  discover  in  the  father  of  the  young  lady 
one  of  the  most  eminent  business  men  of  the  city.  He 
gave  his  consent  to  the  marriage,  and  promised  to  do 
well  by  the  daughter,  though  he  admitted  that  the 
mother  of  the  young  lady  was  not  his  wife.  The 
clergyman  was  greatly  attached  to  the  young  woman, 
who  was  really  beautiful  and  accomplished.  He  agreed 
to  lead  her  to  the  altar,  if,  at  the  same  time,  the  mer- 
chant would  make  the  mother  his  wife.  This  was 
agreed  to,  and  the  double  wedding  was  consummated 
the  same  night.  The  father  and  mother  were  first 
married,  and  then  the  father  gave  away  the  daughter. 
The  affair  created  a  ten  days'  sensation.  The  veil  of 
secrecy  was  removed.  The  family  took  the  down-town 
name,  which  was  the  real  one  —  a  name  among  the 
most  honored  in  the  city.  An  up-town  fashionable 
mansion  was  purchased,  and  fitted  up  in  style.  Crowds 
filled  the  spacious  parlors,  for  there  was  just  piquancy 
enough  in  the  case  to  make  it  attractive.  Splendid 
coaches  of  the  fashionable  filled  the  street ;  a  dashing 
company  crowded  the  pavement,  and  rushed  up  the 
steps  to  enjoy  the  sights.  These  brilliant  parties  con- 
tinued but  a  short  time.  The  merchant  was  rotten  at 
heart.  All  New  York  was  astounded  one  day  at  the 
report  that  the  great  railroad  king  had  become  a  gi- 
gantic defaulter,  and  had  'absconded.  "His  crash  carried 
down  fortunes  and  families  with  his  own.  Commercial 
circles  yet  suffer  for  his  crimes.  The  courts  are  still 


248  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

fretted  with  suits  between  great  corporations  and  indi- 
viduals growing  out  of  these  transactions.  Fashionable 
New  York,  which  could  overlook  twenty  years  of 
criminal  life,  could  not  excuse  poverty.  It  took  re- 
prisals for  bringing  this  family  into  social  position  by 
hurling  it  back  into  an  obscurity  from  which  probably 
it  will  never  emerge. 

SAKATOGA   BELLE. 

A  few  summers  ago  a  lady  of  New  York  reigned  as 
a  belle  at  Saratoga.  Her  elegant  and  numerous 
dresses,  valuable  diamonds,  and  dashing  turnout  at- 
tracted great  attention.  Her  husband  was  a  quiet  sort 
of  a  man,  attending  closely  to  his  business.  He  came 
to  Saratoga  on  Saturdays,  and  returned  early  on  Mon- 
day morning.  The  lady  led  a  gay  life,  was  the  centre 
of  attraction,  patronized  the  plays,  and  was  eagerly 
sought  as  a  partner  at  the  balls.  After  a  very  brilliant 
and  gay  season  she  disappeared  from  fashionable  life, 
and  was  soon  forgotten.  One  cold  season  a  benevolent 
New  York  lady  visited  a  tenement-house  on  an  errand 
of  mercy.  Mistaking  the  door  to  which  she  was  di- 
rected, she  knocked  at  a  corresponding  one  on  another 
story.  The  door  was  opened  by  a  female,  who  looked 
on  the  visitor  for  an  instant,  and  then  suddenly  closed 
the  door.  The  lady  was  satisfied  that  she  had  seen 
the  woman  somewhere,  and  thinking  she  might  afford 
aid  to  a  needy  person,  she  persistently  knocked  at  the 
door  till  it  was  opened.  Judge  of  her  surprise  when 
she  found  that  the  occupant  of  that  room,  in  that  tene- 
ment-house, was  the  dashing  belle  whom  she  had  met 
a  season  or  two  before  at  the  Springs !  In  one  room 


IN  NEW  YORK.  249 

herself  and  husband  lived,  in  a  building  overrun  with 
occupants,  crowded  with  children,  dirt,  and  turbulence. 
Mortification  and  suffering,  blended  with  poverty,  in  a 
few  months  had  done  the  work  of  years  on  that  comely 
face.  Her  story  was  the  old  one  repeated  a  thousand 
times.  Reverses,  like  a  torrent,  suddenly  swept  away 
,a  large  fortune.  .  Her  husband  became  discouraged, 
disconsolate,  and  refused  to  try  again.  He  lost  his 
self-respect,  took  to  the  bowl,  and  became  a  drunkard. 
The  wife  followed  him  step  by  step  in  his  descent,  from 
his  high  place  among  the  merchants  to  his  home 
among  the  dissolute.  To  furnish  herself  and  husband 
with  bread,  she  parted  with  her  dresses,  jewels,  and 
personal  effects.  She. pointed  to  a  heap  in  the  corner, 
covered  with  rags,  and  that  was  all  that  remained  of 
a  princely  merchant ! 

BOCK   IN    THE    CHANNEL. 

The  speculating  mania  which  pervades  New  York  is 
one  of  the  rocks  in  the  channel  on  which  so  many 
strike  and  founder.  Shrewd,  enterprising  men,  who 
are  engaged  in  successful  business,%re  induced  to  make 
investments  in  stocks  and  operations  of  various  kinds, 
and  are  thus  at  the  mercy  of  sharpers.  Their  balance 
in  the  bank  is  well  known.  Speculators  lay  snares  for 
them,  and  catch  them  with  guile.  A  man  makes 
money  in  a  business  he  understands,  and  loses  it  in 
one  he  knows  nothing  about.  One  is  a  successful  mer- 
chant, and  he  imagines  he  can  be  a  successful  broker ; 
one  sta'nds  at  the  head  of  the  bar,  and  he  thinks  he  can 
lead  the  Stock  Board.  He  is  a  broker ;  he  adds  to  it 
an  interest  in  railroads  or  steamboats.  Men  have  a 


250  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

few  thousand  dollars  that  they  do  not  need  at  present 
in  their  business.  They  are  easily  enticed  into  a  little 
speculation  by  which  they  may  make  their  fortune. 
They  get  in  a  little  way,  and  to  save  what  they  have 
invested  they  advance  more.  They  continue  in  this 
course  until  their  outside  ventures  ruin  their  legitimate 
business.  Stock  companies,  patent  medicines,  patent 
machines,  oil  wells,  and  copper  stocks  have  carried 
down  thousands  of  reputed  millionnaires,  with  bankers, 
brokers,  and  dry  goods  men,  who  have  been  duped  by 
unprincipled  schemers.  Fortunes  made  by  tact,  dili- 
gence, and  shrewdness,  are  lost  by  an  insane  desire  to 
make  fifty  or  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  a  day. 
The  mania  for  gambling  in  trade  marks  much  of  the 
business  of  New  York.  The  stock  and  gold  gambling 
has  brought  to  the  surface  a  set  of  men  new  to  the 
city.  The  stock  business,  which  was  once  in  the  hands 
of  the  most  substantial  and  respectable  of  our  citizens, 
is  now  controlled  by  men  desperate  and  reckless.  Any 
man  who  can  command  fifty  dollars  becomes  a  broker. 
These  men  know  no  hours  and  no  laws.  Early  and 
late  they  are  on  th§  ground.  No  gamesters  are  more 
desperate  or  more  suddenly  destroyed.  The  daily  re- 
verses in  Wall  Street  exceed  any  romance  that  has 
been  written.  A  millionnaire  leaves  his  palatial  resi- 
dence in  the  morning,  and  goes  home  at  night  a  ruined 
man.  It  is  a  common  thing  for  speculators  who  can 
afford  it,  to  draw  checks  of  from  fifty  to  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  to  make  up  their  losses  in  a  single 
day.  One  well-known  speculator,  unable  to  deliver 
the  stock  he  had  pledged  himself  to  deliver,  drew  his 
check  for  the  sum  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 


IN  NEW  YORK.  251 

dollars,  the  amount  of  his  loss  in  a  single  transaction. 
A  man  rides  up  to  Central  Park  one  afternoon  with  his 
dashing  equipage  ;  his  wife  and  proud  daughters  whirl 
the  dust  in  the  eyes  of  well-to-do  citizens  who  are  on 
foot.  The  next  day  this  fine  team  and  elegant  man- 
sion, with  store  full  of  goods,  go  into  the  hands  of  his 
creditors.  He  sends  his  family  into  the  country,  and 
either  disappears  himself,  or  is  seen  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  crowd,  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up.  The 
reckless  mode  of  doing  business  leads  to  a  reckless 
style  of  living,  extravagance  and  dissipation,  which  no 
legitimate  business  can  support.  The  mania  touches 
all  classes.  Women  and  ministers  are  not  exempt. 
One  pastor  in  this  city  is  a  good  specimen  of  the  power 
of  this  speculating  mania.  The  demon  got  possession 
of  him.  He  made  a  little  money.  He  started  to  make 
five  thousand.  He  moved  the  figure  ahead  to  the 
little  sum  of  a  quarter  of  a  million.  The  business 
transformed  the  man.  His  face  became  haggard ;  his 
eyes  dilated ;  his  hair  dishevelled ;  he  could  not  sleep  ; 
he  bought  all  the  editions  of  the  papers  ;  got  up  nights 
to  buy  extras;  chased  the  boys  round  the  corners  for 
the  latest  news ;  was  early  at  the  stock  market,  and 
among  the  last  lo  leave  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  at 
night  when  the  board  closes  its  late  session.  Whether 
a  quarter  of  a  million  is  worth  what  it  costs,  this  gen- 
tleman can  tell  when  he  gets  it.  A  lady  in  this  city 
came  from  New  England.  She  was  the  child  of  a  sail- 
maker,  and  was  brought  up  in  humble  circumstances. 
A  wealthy  man,  whose  repute  was  not  high,  and  whose 
disposition  was  not  amiable,  offered  her  his  hand.  She 
did  not  expect  love,  nor  hardly  respect,  but  he  offered 


252  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

her  instead  a  coach,  an  elegant  mansion,  and  costly 
jewels.  She  found  herself  suddenly  elevated.  She 
lived  in  commanding  style,  with  her  furniture,  plate, 
and  servants.  She  bore  her  elevation  badly,  and  looked 
down  with  scorn  upon  her  old  friends  and  associates. 
Her  husband  engaged  deeply  in  speculation  ;  it  proved 
a  ruinous  one.  To  help  himself  out  of  a  crisis  he  com- 
mitted forgery.  He  was  sent  to  the  State  Prison.  His 
great  establishment  was  seized.  Her  house  was  sold 
over  her  head  by  the  sheriff.  Her  jewels,  valued  at 
fifteen  thousand  dollars,  were  spirited  away,  and  she 
never  saw  them  more.  She  was  suddenly  elevated, 
and  as  suddenly  hurled  down  to  the  position  from 
which  she  had  been  taken. 

SUCCESS    A    COY   THING. 

The  men  who  are  the  capitalists  of  New  York  to- 
day are  not.  the  sons  of  the  wealthy  or  successful  mer- 
chants of  the  city.  They  are  men  whose  fathers  were 
porters,  wood-choppers,  and  coal-heavers.  They  did  the 
hard  work,  swept  out  the  stores,  made  the  fires,  used 
the  marking-pot,  were  kicked  and  cuffed  about,  and 
suffered  every  hardship.  But  they  jostled  and  outran 
the  pampered  son  of  their  employer,  and  carried  off  the 
prize.  The  chief  end  of  man  is  not  to  make  money. 
But  if  one  imagines  that  it  is,  and  that  a  fortune  must 
be  made  at  once,  then  he  will  barter  the  solid  ground 
for  the  mirage,  and  leave  a  successful  business  for  the 
glittering  morass ;  trade  that  insures  a  handsome  com- 
petence for  wild  speculation.  The  hands  on  the  dial 
plate  of  industry  will  stand  still  while  men  grasp  at 
shadows. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  253 

In  New  York,  two  kinds  of  business  greet  a  comer, 
one  bad,  the  other  good  ;  one  easy  to  get,  the  other 
hard  ;  the  one  pays  at  the  start,  the  other  pays  but 
little  :  perhaps  the  position  itself  must  be  paid  for.  If 
one  wants  money,  says  he  has  his  fortune  to  make  and 
cannot  wait,  he  will  take  what  turns  up,  and  wait  for 
better  times.  Disreputable  trade,  questionable  busi- 
ness, a  tricky  house,  a  saloon  or  a  bar-room,  are  open  to 
a  reputable  young  man,  and  if  he  have  a  dash  of  piety, 
all  the  better.  But  such  touch  pitch  and  are  defiled ; 
they  seldom  lose  the  taint  of  the  first  business  in 
which  they  are  engaged.  Men  can  be  good  or  bad  in 
any  trade.  They  can  be  sound  lawyers  or  pettifoggers  ; 
a  merchant  of  property  or  a  mock  auctioneer ;  a  physi- 
cian whose  skill  and  character  endear  him  to  the  best 
families  in  the  land,  or  a  doctor  whose  "  sands  of  life 
have  almost  run  out ; "  a  preacher  who  says,  "  Woe  is 
me  if  I  preach  not  the  gospel,"  or  a  minister  who,  like 
some  in  the  olden  time,  said,  "  Put  me,  I  pray  thee, 
into  the  priest's  office,  that  I  may  get  me  a  morsel  of 
bread."  There  is  no  permanent  success  without  in- 
tegrity, industry,  and  talent. 

In  trade  there  are  two  codes  that  govern  men.  The 
one  is  expressed  in  the  mottoes,  "  All  is  fair  in  trade ;" 
"  Be  as  honest  as  the  times  will  allow ; "  "  If  you  buy 
the  devil,  you  must  sell  him  again."  The  other  acts  on 
business  principles;  sells  a  sound  horse  for  a  sound 
price;  gives  the  customer  the  exact  article  that  he 
buys.  The  few  houses  that  have  been  successful,  amid 
an  almost  universal  crash,  have  been  houses  which 
have  done  business  on  principle.  In  cases  where  honor- 
able tradesmen  have  been  obliged  to  suspend,  they  are 


254  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  last  to  go  down  and  the  first  to  recover.  Manu- 
factories that  have  been  noted  for  goods  of  excellent 
quality  feel  depression  the  latest  and  rise  the  quickest 
If  a  glass  is  wanted  for  the  Observatory  at  Washington, 
an  order  goes  to  England,  France,  or  Germany;  the 
lens  is  received  and  put  in  its  place  without  trial,  for 
the  reputation  of  the  house  is  a  guarantee  of  its  ex- 
cellence. This  reputation  is  capital,  out  of  which  the 
fortune  is  made.  If  the  stamp  of  Rogers  &  Son  on  a 
piece  of  cutlery  is  genuine,  no  one  wants  a  guarantee 
that  the  knife  is  good.  97  High  Holborn  is  well 
known  throughout  the  civilized  world  as  the  Tower. 
It  is  the  depot  of  Day  &  Martin's  celebrated  blacking. 
The  unquestioned  excellence  of  the  article  has  not 
only  secured  a  fortune  to  the  firm,  but  a  tenant  in  that 
building  is  sure  of  success.  The  location  is  well  known, 
and  the  owners  will  have  none  but  honorable  trades- 
men on  their  premises.  A  box  of  axes  put  up  at  the 
Douglas  manufactory,  in  Massachusetts,  is  not  opened 
till,  hundreds  of  miles  beyond  the  Mississippi,  the  hardy 
woodsman  begins  to  fell  the  forest  —  the  vanguard  of 
civilization.  The  maker  and  the  buyer  know  the  value 
of  integrity  in  business  matters. 

OLD    MERCHANTS. 

The  men  who  founded  the  mercantile  character  of 
this  city  are  known  as  men  of  the  Old  School.  They 
were  celebrated  for  their  courtesy  and  integrity.  They 
came  from  the  humblest  walks  of  life  ;  from  the  plough 
and  anvil ;  from  the  lapstone  and  printing  case ;  from 
the  farm  and  the  quarry.  They  worked  their  way  up,  as 
Daniel  worked  his  from  the  position  of  a  slave  to  Prime 


IN  NEW  YORK.  255 

Minister  of  Babylon.  Some  of  these  men  went  from  the 
store  to  compete  with  the  ablest  statesmen  of  the  world. 
Some  left  their  patients  on  a  sick  bed  to  measure  swords 
with  veteran  commanders  on  the  battle-field.  They 
met  on  the  seas  naval  officers  of  highest  rank,  and  made 
them  haul  down  their  flags  to  the  new  banner  of  our 
nation.  They  sounded  out  freedom  in  the  Declaration 
of  Independence  ;  the  bugle-call  rang  over  hill  and 
dale,  crossed  oceans  and  continents,  into  dungeons,  and 
made  tyrants  tremble  in  their  palace  homes,  —  building 
a  nation  that  no  treason  could  ruin  and  no  foreign  foe 
destroy.  Like  the  Eddystone  lighthouse,  the  Union, 
sometimes  hid  for  a  moment  by  the  angry  surges,  still 
threw  its  steady  light  on  the  turbulent  waters,  and 
guided  the  tempest-tossed  into  the  harbor  where  they 
would  be. 

These  Old  School  men  ate  not  a  bit  of  idle  bread. 
They  were  content  with  their  small  store  and  pine 
desk.  They  owned  their  goods,  and  were  their  own 
cashiers,  salesmen,  clerks,  and  porter.  They  worked 
sixteen  hours  a  day,  and  so  became  millionnaires.  They 
would  as  soon  have  committed  forgery  as  to  have  been 
mean  or  unjust  in  trade.  They  made  their  wealth  in 
business,  and  not  in  fraudulent  failure.  They  secured 
their  fortunes  out  of  their  customers,  and  not  out  of 
their  creditors.  Not  so  Young  America.  He  must 
make  a  dash.  He  begins  with  a  brown-stone  store, 
filled  with  goods  for  which  he  has  paid  nothing ;  mar- 
ries a  dashing  belle  ;  delegates  all  the  business  that  he 
can  to  others ;  lives  in  style,  and  spends  his  money 
before  he  gets  it;  keeps  his  fast  horse,  and  other 


256  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

appendages  equally  fast ;  is  much  at  the  club  room,  on 
the  sporting  track,  and  in  billiard  or  kindred  saloons; 
speaks  of  his  father  as  the  "  old  governor,"  and  of  his 
mother  as  the  "old  woman ; "  and  finally  becomes  porter 
to  his  clerk,  and  lackey  to  his  salesman.  Beginning 
where  his  father  left  off,  he  leaves  off  where  his  father 
began. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  257 


XXVII. 

ADAMS    EXPRESS    COMPANY. 

ORIGIN    OF    THE    EXPRESS    BUSINESS.  —  ORGANIZATION. — HEADQUARTERS.— 
THE    SUPERINTENDENT.  —  THE    STABLES.  —  THE    LESSON. 

ORIGIN    OF   THE   EXPRESS    BUSINESS. 

BOSTON  has  the  honor  of  originating  the  express 
companies  of  America.  One  morning  a  man  took  the 
East  Boston  ferry,  bound  for  Salem,  over  the  Eastern 
Railroad.  He  held  in  his  hand  a  small  trunk,  trimmed 
with  red  morocco,  and  fastened  with  brass  nails.  The 
trunk  contained  a  few  notes  which  the  person  was  to 
collect ;  a  small  sum  of  money  he  was  to  pay,  and  a  few 
commissions  he  was  to  execute.  These  were  the  tangi- 
ble things  in  the  trunk.  Besides  these  notes,  money, 
and  orders,  that  little  trunk,  which  a  child  might  have 
lifted  and  carried,  contained  the  germ  of  the  express 
business  of  the  land,  whose  agencies,  untiring  as  the 
sun,  are  almost  as  regular ;  which  girdle  this  continent, 
cross  and  recross  at  every  point,  and  track  commerce, 
gain,  glory,  and  religion  round  the  globe. 

The  man  still  lives,  among  the  most  honored  of  his 

fellow-citizens,  who  commenced  the  express  business  as 

an  experiment  between  Boston  and  New  York.     Alvin 

Adams,  on  the  4th  day  of  May,  1840,  made  his  first 

17 


258  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

trip  between  those  cities  as  an  expressman.  He  had 
no  business,  no  customers,  and  no  money.  He  shrewd- 
ly saw  the  coming  greatness  of  his  calling,  though  for 
one  year  it  was  carried  on  in  the  smallest  possible  way. 
He  had  indomitable  energy;  his  integrity  was  without 
a  question  ;  he  gained  slowly  on  the  confidence  of  the 
community,  and  closed  the  year  with  a  future  success 
before  him. 

ORGANIZATION. 

William  B.  Dinsmore,  the  present  honored  head  of 
the  Adams  Express  Company,  in  1841  became  the  New 
York  partner.  With  the  rapid  increase  of  business, 
branches  were  extended  towards  the  south.  Edward 
S.  Sandford,  the  present  vice-president  of  the  company, 
carried  the  business  to  Philadelphia.  In  the  same  year, 
Samuel  M.  Shoemaker  extended  the  business  to  Balti- 
more. These  gentlemen  are  still  connected  with  the 
company.  •  In  1854  a  joint  stock  company  was  formed, 
with  a  capital  of  a  million  dollars.  The  ablest  business 
talent  in  the  land  was  called  to  the  charge  of  affairs. 
The  company  now  stretches  out  its  arms  towards  all 
the  towns,  villages,  and  cities  in  the  land.  It  is  an 
express  company  for  merchandise,  from  a  bundle  to  a 
ship  load.  The  amount  of  money  received  and  dis- 
bursed every  day  exceeds  that  of  any  bank  in  the 
nation.  It  collects  and  pays  out  the  smallest  sum,  and 
from  that  to  a. large  wagon  loaded  with  money,  and 
drawn  by  three  horses.  During  the  wrar  the  company 
rendered  efficient  service  to  the  government.  In  time 
of  peril  or  panic,  when  the  property  of  the  army  was 
abandoned  or  sacrificed,  it  bore  away  cart-loads  of 
money  by  its  coolness  and  courage,  and  saved  millions 


IN  NEW  YORK.  259 

to  the  treasury.  The  company  opened  a  department 
expressly  to  carry  money  from  the  private  soldiers  to 
their  families.  For  a  very  small  sum  funds  were  taken 
from  the  soldier  and  delivered  to  his  friends  in  any  part 
of  the  land,  I  have  seen,  at  one  arrival,  a  bundle  of 
greenbacks  from  the  troops  that  no  two  men  could  lift. 
On  several  occasions,  the  transportation  department  in 
the  army  being  in  utter  confusion,  application  was 
made  to  the  Adams  Express  Company  for  relief.  A 
shrewd,  practical  man  sent  out  from  this  office  would 
straighten  matters  in  a  short  time. 

HEADQUARTERS. 

On  Broadway,  below  Trinity  Church,  stands  the  head- 
quarters of  the  company.  It  is  a  model  for  con- 
venience, elegance,  and  utility.  The  immense  business 
requires  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  distinct  departments, 
and  each  with  an  efficient  head.  Order,  system,  and 
despatch  reign  throughout  the  house.  The  quietness 
of  a  bank  pervades  the  establishment.  The  company 
pay  the  highest  wages,  and  secure  the  best  o  men. 
Every  man  knows  his  duty,  has  his  place,  and  must  do 
his  work.  No  loud  talking,  swearing,  or  vulgarity  is 
allowed.  The  building  is  fitted  up  with  great  elegance. 
The  president's  room  is  regal.  Mr.  Dinsmore,  who  has 
been  identified  with  the  company  from  its  start,  a 
practical  business  man,  prompt,  intelligent,  and  efficient, 
who  blandly  receives  all  comers,  and  courteously  greets 
all  who  have  any  business  to  do,  cannot  be  imposed 
upon.  The  whole  building  is  fitted  up  in  the  best 
style  of  a  banking-house.  Order  and  neatness  per- 
vade every  department  The  attic  is  a  museum. 


260  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Uncalled-for  articles  are  here  stored,  and  are  marked 
ft  0.  H.,"  which  means  On  Hand  ;  in  the  parlance  of  the 
office  it  is  called  "  Old  Hoss."  The  running  expenses 
of  the  concern  are  not  less  than  twelve  thousand 
dollars  a  day. 

THE    SUPERINTENDENT. 

For  many  years  John  Hoey  has  been  the  executive 
officer.  Much  of  the  system  and  success  is  due  to  him. 
On  entering  the  headquarters,  the  superintendent  can 
be  seen  at  his  little  desk  opposite  the  door, —  a  man 
of  medium  height,  thick-set,  of  sandy  complexion,  with 
a  sharp,  short,  vigorous  utterance.  He  despatches  the 
complicated  business  of  his  position  with  ease  and 
promptness.  He  has  a  remarkable  combination  of 
fitting  gifts  for  his  position.  He  is  smart  and  courte- 
ous, shrewd  and  patient ;  blending  suavity  with  great 
executive  ability;  never  off  his  guard,  never  losing 
his  temper ;  ready  for  any  emergency,  and  prompt  at 
all  times.  His  position  is  perplexing  and  complicated. 
He  has  to  deal  with  thousands  of  small  packages,  thou- 
sands of  small  customers,  thousands  of  unreasonable 
men,  thousands  of  nervous  and  irritable  women,  thou- 
sands of  persons  stupid  and  mad ;  with  property  lost, 
trunks  stolen,  packages  missing ;  with  turbulent  cus- 
tomers threatening  lawsuits.  Every  man's  case  is  the 
most  urgent,  and  all  demand  attention  and  redress  at 
once.  Without  a  cool  and  intelligent  head,  the  head- 
quarters would  be  a  scene  of  wild  and  inextricable  con- 
fusion. But  all  day  long,  with  the  coming  and  going 
of  thousands,  the  demands,  the  threats,  and  the  loud 
talking,  Mr.  Hoey  can  be  seen  as  pleasant  as  a  sum- 
mer morning.  He  has  but  a  word  for  each,  and  that 


IN  NEW   YORK.  261 

the  right  one.  The  man  who  threatens  a  lawsuit  is 
told  to  go  ahead ;  the  boisterous  talker  cools  down 
under  the  icy  blandness  of  the  executive  ;  unreason- 
able men  cease  their  strife,  and  the  timid  have  their 
fears  allayed.  The  equity  of  his  decisions  usually 
satisfies.  He  can  do  more  business  in  a  day,  get  more 
work  out  of  men,  get  more  goods  into  a  wagon,  get  it 
off'  quicker,  get  more  freight  on  board  of  a  ship,  and 
make  all  hands  feel  better  about  it,  than  any  other 
man  in  New  York.  A  wagon  returns  from  a  vessel 
without  unloading.  The  driver  reports  that  the  captain 
will  not  take  another  package.  Mr.  Hoey  jumps  on 
to  the  box  with  the  driver,  returns  to  the  vessel,  un- 
loads, gets  every  package  on  board,  and  with  a  hearty 
good  will,  mutually  expressed,  shakes  hands  with  the 
captain,  and  returns  to  the  office. 

THE    STABLES. 

The  stables  are  in  the  rear  of  the  headquarters. 
They  are  the  most  convenient  of  any  in  the  city,  and 
are  well  worth  a  visit.  They  are  five  stories  high,  and, 
like  a  Fifth  Avenue  house,  have  all  the  modern  improve- 
ments. Comfort,  ventilation,  cleanliness,  and  conven- 
ience are  combined.  Every  horse  has  his  name  and  his 
stall,  and  every  harness  its  particular  hook  on  which  it 
must  hang.  Every  piece  of  it  must  be  kept  clean  and 
bright,  and  fit  for  immediate  use.  There  are  no  cor- 
ners for  rubbish,  for  the  system  and  order  of  the  office 
reigns  in  the  stable.  Few  men  take  better  care  of 
their  families  than  this  company  do  of  their  horses. 
The  stables  are  as  inviting  as  a  summer-house,  and  are 
as  attractive  as  the  queen's  at  Windsor  Castle.  The 


262  SUNSHINE   AND  SHADOW 

company  offer  a  premium  for  fine  horses,  and  secure 
the  best  in  the  land.  Over  a  hundred  and  fifty  horses 
are  used  to  do  the  business  of  the  concern  in  New 
York,  some  of  which  know  quite  as  much  as  the  men. 
The  celebrated  tandern  team  are  the  most  valuable  and 
sagacious  horses  in  the  land.  They  are  elegant,  of 
great  size,  are  groomed  perfectly,  and  nothing  can 
excel  their  harness  and  trappings.  Four  of  them  are 
attached  to  the  wagon,  one  before  the  other,  Boston 
style.  They  start  from  the  office  for  the  upper  part  of 
the  city  with  an  immense  load  of  goods,  guided  by  no 
reins,  and  only  an  occasional  word  from  the  driver. 
These  sagacious  creatures  will  thread  their  way  up 
through  Broadway  when  it  is  the  most  thickly  crowded 
with  teams,  crossing  and  recrossing  in  every  direction ; 
•when  the  police  have  to  unlock  the  conflicting  teams ; 
when  a  man  cannot  get  over  without  the  aid  of  an 
officer;  and  yet  these  horses  will  move  on  unguided. 
They  seem  to  know  the  width  of  the  wagon,  and  will 
not  enter  an  opening  large  enough  for  themselves 
unless  the  wagon  can  follow.  They  will  back  and  start, 
cross  over,  change  their  course,  move  at  the  right  mo- 
ment, prick  up  their  ears,  fling  their  heads  up,  snort, 
and  carry  the  wagon  safely  through,  as  if  navigating 
Broadway,  in  its  wildest  confusion,  had  been  the  study 
of  their  lives.  The  horses  occupy  three  stories  of  the 
stables,  two  of  them  below  ground.  The  stalls,  cribs, 
mode  of  watering  and  feeding,  are  on  new  methods. 
An  old  horse  who  has  outgrown  his  usefulness  is  daily 
hoisted  on  a  platform  from  his  subterranean  stall  to  the 
attic,  where  he  grinds  the  food  for  his  more  vigorous 
companions. 


IN  NEW    YORK.  2'63 


THE   LESSON. 

The  men  who  originated  this  successful  company, 
who  still  conduct  its  immense  business,  and  through  it 
have  secured  an  ample  fortune,  began  life  as  humble 
and  as  lowly  as  the  lowest.  They  were  trained  among 
the  farms  and  hills  of  New  England.  In  the  plain 
school-house  they  secured  their  education.  In  the 
church  they  received  the  good  principles  which  have 
underlaid  their  success.  A  father's  prayers  followed 
them  as  they  left  the  old  homestead.  A  mother's  bless- 
ing rested  on  their  heads  as  they  turned  away  to  seek 
their  fortune.  The  success  of  this  company,  for  a  quar- 
ter of  a  century,  proves  that  integrity,  fair  dealing, 
promptness,  and  indomitable  perseverance  have  a 
commercial  value. 


264  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


XXVIII. 
COLLEGE    HONORS. 

COMMON  BOON.  —  COVETED   HONORS.  —  THE   SCRAMBLE. — A   BACK. 

COMMON  BOON. 

ALMOST  every  preacher  in  New  York  is  a  Doctor  of 
Divinity.  Mere  lads  and  whipsters  are  divines.  Men 
who  have  no  social  or  religious  standing  put  D.  D.  after 
their  name.  Men  who  cannot  construe  correctly  a 
sentence  in  Paradise  Lost  are  announced  as  "  The  Kev. 
Dr.  Blank."  Formerly  a  diploma  was  a  proof  of  standing 
and  of  repute  ;  of  learning,  character,  and  ability.  In 
many  cases  it  is  so  now.  Many  of  the  pastors  of  New 
York  have  well  earned  the  dignity  of  D.  D.  Many, 
without  any  solicitation  on  their  part,  or  on  the  part 
of  their  friends,  have  received  diplomas  from  prominent 
colleges  at  home  and  abroad.  Many  have  declined 
the  honor.  Many  honor  the  institution  by  accepting 
it,  rather  than  receive  honor  from  the  college.  To  no 
such  men  do  I  now  refer. 

COVETED   HONOKS. 

There  is  an  insane  desire  to  be  a  D.  D.  on  the  part 
of  some  men.  They  scramble  for  it  as  chickens  do  for 
corn.  The  tricks  resorted  to  by  politicians  to  get  office 


IN  NEW  YORK.  265 

are  resorted  to  by  men  to  get  a  degree.  They  make 
direct  application  to  the  president  or  to  one  of  the 
trustees.  They  get  up  petitions,  have  them  signed  by 
their  friends,  and  send  them  to  some  college.  The 
matter  is  reduced  to  a  system  in  this  city.  Men  have 
diplomas  who,  a  few  years  ago,  were  in  trade,  made 
wagons,  were  artisans  and  dentists ;  who  strut  round 
writh  their  honors  upon  them  as  if  the  hands  of 
the  apostles  were  laid  on  them.  They  suggest  the 
idea  that  our  colleges,  in  the  bestowment  of  their 
gifts,  imitate  the  divine  economy,  in  giving  "more 
abundant  honor  to  the  parts  that  lack." 

THE    SCRAMBLE. 

The  season  when  the  annual .  shower  of  diplomas 
fall  is  an  exciting  one  to  the  aspirant.  Candidates  for 
the  coveted  parchments  begin  to  bestir  themselves. 
One  man  has  a  rich  father,  or  his  wife  has.  A  donation 
looms  up  in  the  distance.  Another  has  a  rich  parish- 
ioner, who  can,  if  he  will,  "  remember  the  college."  If 
an  aspirant  can  get  a  liberal  man  in  his  parish  to  re- 
quest the  favor  of  a  D.  D.,  he  has  a  fair  chance  of  suc- 
cess. I  have  seen  men  in  New  York,  with  the  charter 
of  a  college  in  their  pockets,  seeking  subscriptions, 
with  the  promise  of  a  Doctorate  in  due  time.  In  some 
instances  the  matter  is  run  as  a  political  measure,  and 
a  degree  goes  through  college  as  men  get  a  bill  through 
Congress,  on  the  "  you  help  me  and  I  will  help  you  " 
plan.  A  gentleman  holding  a  government  office  in 
this  city  promised  a  friend  that  he  would  get  him  a 
degree,  as  he  was  trustee  of  a  college.  In  reference  to 
the  rival  claims  for  the  honor,  he  boasted  that  he  would 


266  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

get  his  man  through.  He  drew  up  a  petition,  had  it 
numerously  signed,  and  pressed  it  upon  the  trustees 
with  all  the  zeal  of  a  politician.  Sometimes  a  compro- 
mise is  made.  An  aspirant  gives  way  this  year  to  a 
more  pressing  case,  with  the  promise  that  his  turn  shall 
come  the  next  season.  A  person  was  requested  to  put 
his  name  to  a  petition  for  a  Doctorate  for  a  party 
named.  He  declined,  on  the  ground  that  he  had  just 
signed  one  for  another  gentleman  who  was  about 
changing  his  denomination.  "  Your  friend  must  hold 
over  for  another  year,"  he  added. 

A  RACE. 

Two  men  some  time  ago  ran  quite  a  race  for  a  degree. 
Each  had  strong  petitions,  and  was  well  backed.  The 
campaign  was  as  exciting  and  as  sharp  as  a  political 
one.  The  leading  friend  on  each  side  was  a  well- 
trained  New  York  politician.  The  list  on  each  petition 
was  long  and  imposing.  Who  would  win  no  one  could 
tell.  Each  of  the  candidates  had  a  friend  in  the  board. 
It  was  a  ticklish  matter  to  handle.  The  trustees  held 
several  meetings,  and  the  debates  were  very  earnest. 
The  state  of  feeling  outside  of  the  board  was  very  ex- 
citing: If  it  had  not  been  a  clerical  matter,  bets  would 
have  been  freely  offered,  with  many  takers.  The  Com- 
mencement exercises  began.  The  outside  world  did 
not  know  who  was  the  successful  candidate,  for  the 
secret  was  well  kept.  A  large  crowd  was  in  attend- 
ance. The  point  at  which  degrees  were  conferred 
was  reached.  Silence  pervaded  the  great  throng.  The 
president  quietly  said,  "  The  board  will  confer  no 
honorary  degrees  this  year."  The  announcement  was 


IN  NEW   YORK.  267 

received  with  a  hearty,  universal  laugh,  indicating  the 
interest  of  the  audience  in  the  matter.  At  the  conclu- 
sion, each  of  the  rivals  was  saluted  with,  "  How  are 
you,  Doctor  ?  "  One  man  in  this  state,  who  preaches 
on  Sunday  to  less  than  fifty  people,  who  is  understood 
to  run  his  machine,  as  it  is  called,  to  aid  his  stock  and 
other  speculations,  who  has  made  some  money  on  Wall 
Street,  advertises  himself  as  a  D.  D.  His  diploma  is 
said  to  have  come  from  a  small,  poor  college,  in  a  distant 
part  of  the  larid. 

"  So  easily  are  Doctors  made, 
By  man's  or  woman's  whim." 

At  a  dinner  of  the  alumni  of  a  celebrated  college, 
held  on  a  time  in  New  York,  a  letter  was  read  from 
an  eminent  western  professor,  charging  the  institution 
with  selling  its  degrees  to  men  who,  in  character,  po- 
sition, and  talent  were  a  disgrace  to  it,  and  accusing 
the  college  of  bartering  its  honors  for  so  much  cash. 


268  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


XXIX. 

FERNANDO    WOOD. 

HIS    START.  —  HIS     PIOUS     ROLE. — THE     INAUGURAL. — HE     WINS     OVER    THE 
PUBLIC.  —  ASSUMES     HIS    REAL   CHARACTER.  —  PERSONAL. 

HIS    START. 

l 

FROM  the  lowest  social  position,  Mr.  Wood  became 
Mayor  of  New  York.  When  put  in  nomination,  it  was 
a  measuring  cast  between  the  mayor's  office  and  a  con- 
vict's cell.  He  pleaded  the  statute  of  limitations.  Had 
the  proceedings  against  him  commenced  a  few  hours 
earlier,  the  statute  would  have  been  pleaded  in  vain. 
Having  been  the  keeper  of  a  low  groggery  himself,  his 
strength  lay  with  the  desperate  classes  of  the  city.  To 
elect  himself,  he  appealed  to  the  lowest  of  men,  and  to 
the  vilest  grade  of  New  York  voters.  He  was  nomi- 
nated when  corruption  in  the  city  government  was  the 
most  fearful.  Nothing  was  safe.  The  vilest  men  were 
in  power.  The  public  finances  were  controlled  by 
those  whom  the  citizens  of  New  York  would  not  have 
trusted  with  a  five-dollar  note.  The  authorities  and 
the  rascals  hunted  in  couples.  The  nomination  of 
Fernando  Wood  deepened  the  gloom,  and  extended 
the  feeling  of  general  distrust.  No  man  was  ever  more 
earnestly  opposed.  The  newspapers  were  full  of  his 


IN  NEW  YORK.  269 

past  conduct  and  alleged  crimes.  The  religious  press, 
in  trumpet  tones,  called  upon  the  citizens  to  defeat 
him.  The  pulpit  lifted  up  its  voice  in  prayer  and 
alarm  at  the  great  evil  that  was  impending  over  the 
city.  By  the  aid  of  the  united  vote  of  the  foreign 
population,  the  keepers  of  dens,  brothels,  and  low 
groggeries,  blended  with  the  power  of  party  nomina- 
tion, Mr.  Wood  was  elected. 

HIS  PIOUS  ROLE. 

His  proclamations,  speeches,  and  promises  gave  the 
lie  to  the  electioneering  stories.  He  turned  his  back 
on  his  associates  who  elected  him.  He  joined  the 
party  of  reform.  He  promised  great  things.  All  cor- 
ruption was  to  be  checked,  and  economy  to  pervade 
the  administration  of  the  government.  The  laws  in 
relation  to  dram-selling  should  be  enforced,  and  the 
Sabbath  be  kept.  The  people  in  New  York  were 
entitled  to  the  best  government  in  the  land,  and  they 
should  have  it.  Between  the  election  and  the  inaugural 
Mr.  Wood  astonished  friend  and  foe.  An  omnibus  pro- 
prietor sent  him  a  season  ticket.  He  sent  it  back, 
stating  that  he  intended  to  see  the  laws  of  New  York 
enforced,  and  could  not  be  holden  to  any  party.  He 
saw  a  policeman  reading  a  newspaper  while  a  crowd 
were  gathered  around  a  fallen  omnibus  horse.  The 
mayor  elect  asked  the  name  of  the  policeman.  He  re- 
fused to  give  it,  and  Mr.  Wood  took  down  his  number. 
"  What  do  you  want  my  name  for  ?  "  the  policeman 
said.  "  You  are  bound  to  give  it  to  any  one  who  asks, 
without  a  reason,"  was  the  reply.  The  name  was 
given  with  evident  reluctance.  As  Mr.  Wood  was 


270  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

turning  away,  the  officer  said,  "  You  have  asked  my 
name,  now  give  me  yours."  "  Fernando  Wood  is  my 
name,"  said  the  mayor  elect,  "  and  I  will  see  you  at  the 
City  Hall  on  the  1st  of  January  next."  The  police- 
man gave  a  long  whistle,  and  departed.  The  friends 
of  public  order,  of  the  Sabbath,  of  sound  morals,  tem- 
perance, and  religion  were  astounded  at  the  conduct 
of  the  new  chief,  and  thought  that  the  millennium 
was  not  far  off 

THE   INAUGURAL. 

The  proclamation  with  which  Mr.  Wood  began  his 
reign  as  mayor  fell  on  the  city  like  a  bombshell.  For 
a  time  the  reforms  promised  in  it  were  not  merely  in 
name.  The  police,  who  had  for  years  loafed  round  the 
City  Hall,  surrounded  by  a  troop  of  smokers,  tobacco- 
chewers,  and  eaters  of  peanuts ;  bullies  and  black- 
guards, prize-fighters,  pot-house  politicians,  who  had 
made  the  City  Hall  their  headquarters,  to  the  disgust 
of  decent  people, — were  informed  that  their  reign  was 
over,  and  that  they  must  abdicate.  On  the  inaugura- 
tion of  their  favorite  candidate,  they  were  ready  to 
congratulate  him  by  renewing  their  visits  to  the  City 
Hall.  He  was  the  people's  candidate,  and  the  people 
had  elected  him  in  spite  of  the  aristocrats,  who  had 
tried  hard  to  send  him  to  the  State's  Prison.  He  was 
a  Democrat  of  the  Democrats,  the  standard-bearer  of 
the  Bowery  Boys,  the  Fourth  Warders,  and  of  the 
Bloody  Sixth.  Former  mayors,  who  had  represented 
the  respectability,  decency,  and  morality  of  the  city, 
were  accessible  to  all  during  business  hours.  In  the 
central  room  in  the  City  Hall,  surrounded  with  clerks, 
sitting  at  his  low  desk,  the  mayor  could  usually  be 


IN  NEW  YORK.  271 

seen.  All  this  was  too  democratic  for  Fernando  Wood. 
He  had  an  office  elegantly  fitted  up  in  the  rear.  He 
called  it  the  Mayor's  Private  Office.  Into  this  he  re- 
treated, and  the  doors  were  guarded  by  policemen. 
Bullies  and  Short  Boys,  who  for  years  had  the  run  of 
the  City  Hall,  going  in  and  out  of  the  mayor's  office 
when  they  pleased,  were  astounded  to  find  "  Fernandy  " 
putting  on  airs,  and  closing  his  door  in  the  face  of  the 
men  who  put  him  into  power.  They  resolved  to  beard 
him  in  his  new  den.  They  were  met  at  the  door  by  a 
well-dressed  official,  who  informed  them,  in  decided 
tones,  that  the  mayor  was  engaged.  They  could  do 
nothing  but  retire,  muttering  vengeance.  The  old 
mayor's  room  was  a  disgrace.  Under  Mr.  Wood  it  was 
cleansed,  the  ceilings  elegantly  painted,  the  floor  car- 
peted, and  pictures  hung  on  the  wall ;  the  desks  fell 
back  in  a  line  ;  confusion  and  tumult  ceased  ;  men  came 
only  on  business,  quietly  did  it,  and  went  away.  A 
portion  of  the  citizens  were  jubilant  over  the  new 
order  of  things.  A  portion  were  surprised,  and  knew 
not  what  to  make  of  it.  Some  resolved  to  resist  the 
despot  in  the  City  Hall.  Mr.  Wood  carried  things 
with  an  iron  rule.  He  enforced  the  laws  as  they  had 
not  been  enforced  for  half  a  century.  He  opened  a 
complaint  book,  and  invited  all  the  citizens  who  had 
grievances  to  present  them,  and  they  should  be  at- 
tended to.  The  slightest  breach  of  discipline  was 
punished.  If  an  officer  came  into  the  mayor's  office 
without  his  official  coat,  he  was  ordered  out,  and  told  if 
he  repeated  the  offence  he  would  be  dismissed.  Men 
in  the  chief  offices  of  the  City  Hall  resolved  to  rebel. 
They  did  not  like  their  new  chief,  and  said  they  would 


272  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

not  be  so  worked  or  so  governed.  Wood  got  the 
names  of  the  chief  men  in  this  conspiracy.  He  laid 
the  charge  to  them,  and  told  them  coolly  that  he  would 
carry  out  his  reform  against  all  Opposition,  if  he  was 
obliged  to  call  out  the  entire  military  force  of  the  city. 

HE   WINS    OVER   THE   PUBLIC. 

A  man  with  such  a  reputation  as  Mr.  Wood  brought 
with  him  into  office,  whose  election  and  inaugural  were 
regarded  with  terror  and  dismay,  would  be  closely 
watched  while  in  office.  When  he  avowed  himself  the 
champion  of  good  order,  of  the  enforcement  of  law  and 
sound  morals,  not  only  New  York,  but  the  nation  was 
jubilant.  No  public  man,  since  the  days  of  General 
Jackson,  was  so  popular.  He  held  a  daily  levee  in  his 
private  room.  Judges,  justices,  and  lawyers,  from  all 
parts  of  the  country,  sought  his  acquaintance.  The 
clergy  preached  about  him,  and  prayed  for  him.  The 
press  lauded  him  ;  lauded  his  executive  ability,  his  cour- 
age, and  the  grand  administration  he  was  giving  to 
New  York.  Men  who  had  clamored,  before  his  inau- 
guration, for  his  incarceration  in  prison,  took  him  by 
the  hand,  confessed  their  sins,  and  wished  him  God 
speed.  The  grand  jury,  who  had  been  ready  to  indict 
him,  now  spoke  his  praise.  Great  religious  societies 
passed  him  votes  of  thanks.  To  a  committee  who 
presented  him  these  compliments  he  said,  "  I  am  only 
doing  my  duty.  New  York  pays  enough  to  be  well 
governed,  and  she  shall  be.  The  Sunday  laws  shall  be 
enforced,  and  I  am  resolved  to  give  New  York  such 
Sabbaths  as  she  deserves.  When  I  cannot  do  this,  I 
shall  resign."  He  won  over  the  temperance  men  and 


IN  NEW   YORK.  273 

the  clergy.  He  was  a  member  of  St.  George,  of  which 
Dr.  Tyng  was  pastor.  Strangers  crowded  the  church 
on  Sunday  to  see  the  great  man  of  the  age.  At  a 
great  temperance  meeting,  Dr.  Tyng,  his  pastor,  spoke 
in  behalf  of  Mr.  Wood,  while  the  audience  cheered 
every  sentence.  Said  the  doctor,  "I  know  intimately 
the  noble  man  who  is  at  the  head  of  the  city.  He  is  a 
true  man.  He  is  a  member  of  my  congregation.  You 
may  be  assured  that  he  will  take  no  backward  steps." 
A  great  meeting  was  held  at  the  Tabernacle.  The 
Hutchinsons  composed  a  song  in  honor  of  the  mayor, 
which  was  sung  amid  a  tempest  of  applause.  One 
verse  of  it  ran  as  follows :  — 

"  Our  city  laws  are  pretty  good, 

Nowadays,  nowadays, 
When  put  in  force  by  Mr.  Wood, 
Nowadays,  nowadays." 

His  name  became  a  terror  to  evil-doers.  It  was  a 
tower  of  strength  to  good  government  in  all  the  cities 
in  America.  A  passenger  stopped  a  train  in  Michigan, 
seized  a  desperate  pickpocket  who  threatened  to  cut 
his  throat,  and,  single-handed,  ejected  him  from  the 
cars,  and  started  the  train,  the  people  shouting,  "  That 
must  be  Mayor  Wood  ! "  Hundreds  of  letters  were 
received  at  the  mayor's  office,  describing  crime  and 
wickedness  that  existed  in  other  cities,  and  calling 
upon  Mr.  Wood  to  come  and  put  a  stop  to  the  evil.  It 
was  thought  he  could  work  anywhere. 
18 


274  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 


ASSUMES    HIS   REAL   CHARACTER. 

It  is  difficult  to  ascribe  a  reason  for  Mr.  Wood's 
course  during  the  first  six  months  of  his  official  life. 
Why  he  inspired  such  hopes  in  the  heart  of  the  friends 
of  good  government,  order,  and  reform ;  why  he  turned 
his  back  on  his  old  friends  and  old  principles  for  that 
brief  term,  —  it  is  difficult  to  understand.  That  he  was 
not  sincere,  that  his  principles  and  conduct  were  not 
changed,  his  subsequent  acts  sufficiently  proved.  That 
he  made  himself  immensely  popular  is  unquestionable. 
Had  he  really  turned  over  a  new  leaf,  been  in  heart 
what  he  professed  to  be,  governed  New  York  during 
his  whole  term  as  he  governed  it  the  first  six  months, 
he  would  have  had  a  social  and  political  standing  that 
would  have  been  exceeded  by  none  of  the  noble  men 
whose  names  are  revered  by  New  York.  Any  office  in 
the  state  or  nation  that  he  desired  would  have  been 
opened  to  him.  When  he  went  back  to  his  old  friends 
and  his  old  ways  he  made  the  mistake  of  a  lifetime. 
The  farce  was  soon  ended.  The  predictions  preceding 
his  election  were  more  than  realized,  —  among  the  bold, 
bad  rulers  of  New  York  he  would  be  the  chief.  The 
police  under  his  hands  became  so  corrupt  that  the  laws 
were  changed  to  take  away  his  power.  The  united 
populace,  without  distinction  of  party,  cried  to  the 
Legislature  for  relief.  A  commission  was  sent  down  to 
rule  the  city.  Rioters  resisted  the  law,  their  head- 
quarters being  in  the  mayor's  office.  Mr.  Wood  led 
the  old  police  to  resist  the  city  government  unto  blood. 
The  Seventh  Regiment  were  called  out  to  serve  a  civil 
process  on  the  mayor.  The  mayor  was  reduced  to  a 


IN  NEW  YORK.  275 

mere  walking  gentleman,  whose  chief  business  consists 
in  drawing  his  salary  once  a  month. 

PERSONAL. 

Mr.  Wood  is  about  sixty  years  of  age.  His  hair  is 
dark,  but  his  mustache  snowy  white.  He  is  tall,  slim, 
and  very  erect.  However  well  he  is  dressed,  there  is 
always  a  seedy  look  about  him,  such  as  marks  a  well- 
dressed  loafer.  He  wears  black,  has  a  clerical  look,  and 
would  be  mistaken  anywhere  for  a  professor  in  college. 
He  has  a  perpetual  smile  on  his  face,  which,  cold  and 
hollow,  is  well  described  by  the  word  smirk.  He  dresses 
evidently  with  care,  and  with  as  much  taste  as  he  can 
command.  He  makes  up  well,  has  been  carefully  pre- 
served, and  before  he  allowed  his  gray  mustache  to 
grow  looked  scarcely  forty  years  of  age.  There  is  an 
insincerity  about  him,  which  you  feel  whenever  he 
speaks  to  you.  In  his  dress  and  deportment  he  shows 
his  shrewdness.  He  has  nothing  to  hope  for  but  from 
the  debased  of  New  York.  To  them  he  caters.  His 
careful  array  and  sanctified  demeanor  are  the  secret 
of  his  power.  Wood  understands  human  nature.  The 
vile  and  ignominious  want  a  champion,  but  they  do  not 
want  him  to  look  vile  and  ignominious.  They  want 
him  to  dress  and  walk  with  the  best.  They  point  to 
him  when  he  is  in  public,  and  say,  "  That's  our  champi- 
on. He  is  as  smart  and  genteel,  as  handsomely  dressed, 
and  behaves  himself  as  well,  as  any  of  them."  Wood 
understands  this  well.  When  he  goes  among  his  con- 
stituents in  the  lower  parts  of  New  York  he  goes  well 
made  up.  His  black  frock  coat,  buttoned  up  to  the 
throat,  displays  his  lithe  and  genteel  form  to  advantage. 


276  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

His  hat,  of  the  latest  style,  is  well  brushed  and  glossy. 
His  boots,  of  the  newest  fashion,  are  polished  like  a 
mirror.  His  gloves  fit  the  hand,  and,  with  a  small 
switch  or  walking  cane,  he  moves  round  among  the  pur- 
lieus of  the  city  like  a  person  from  another  world.  So 
his  constituents  receive  him.  He  is  civil  and  bland,  but 
icy.  He  speaks  to  the  women ;  pats  the  little,  dirty 
urchins  on  the  head  with  his  dainty  fingers ;  holds  his 
levees  in  beer  saloons  and  Dutch  groceries,  and  drinks 
lager  with  his  friends  out  of  the  rude  mugs,  as  if  he 
was  tippling  champagne  at  the  St.  Nicholas.  Every- 
where he  wears  the  same  bland,  treacherous  smile ; 
everywhere  he  is  the  same  wily  treacherous  politician. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  277 


XXX. 

TRINITY    CHURCH    CORPORATION. 

THE  WEALTH  OF  TRINITY.  —  AS    A   PARISH.  —  THE   YOUNG   RECTOR.  —  TRINITY 

SERVICES. 

THE  Dutch  settled  the  Island  of  Manhattan,  and  were 
the  lords  of  the  soil.  They  persecuted  nobody.  They 
welcomed  all  sects  and  conditions  of  men,  stipulating 
only  that  their  own  customs,  sacred  and  religious, 
should  not  be  meddled  with.  The  worship  of  the  Dutch 
was  in  the  language  of  Holland,  but  their  talk  and 
traffic  were  in  English.  A  few  Episcopalians,  who  came 
over  early,  found  New  York  a  genial  soil.  They  opened 
worship  in  the  English  language.  To  the  great  sorrow 
of  the  Dutch,  their  children  ran  off  to  the  Episcopal 
Church,  because  the  worship  was  in  English.  Yet  the 
Episcopalians  were  made  welcome,  and  were  allowed  to 
occupy  the  Dutch  Church  one  half  of  the  Lord's  Day. 
As  a  separate  parish,  Trinity  was  organized  in  1697. 
Their  house  of  worship  was  a  small,  square  edifice,  with 
a  steeple.  Pews  were  assigned  to  worshippers  accord- 
ing to  rank.  There  was  the  "  Governor's  Pew,"  the 
"  Bachelor's  Pew,"  the  "  Housekeeper's  Pew,"  "  Pew  for 
Masters  of  Vessels ; "  and  others  are  specially  named. 


278  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


THE   WEALTH    OF   TRINITY. 

It  is  difficult  to  estimate  the  wealth  of  this  corpora- 
tion. It  is  estimated  at  from  forty  to  a  hundred  millions. 
It  originated  with  a  farm,  in  the  then  upper  part  of 
New  York,  now  in  the  centre  of  business,  which  was 
leased  by  the  governor  to  Trinity  Church.  Subsequent- 
ly one  of  the  governors  of  the  colony  gave  it  to  Trinity 
Church  in  fee.  The  papers  were  sent  across  the  waters 
for  approval,  but  the  home  government  refused  to 
ratify  the  act  of  the  governor.  In  the  Revolution  the 
estate  became  the  property  of  the  state.  It  got  back 
into  the  hands  of  Trinity ;  but  New  York  has  a  claim 
which  has  never  been  settled,  that  may  cause  some 
trouble  by  and  by. 

Nearly  all  this  farm  is  now  covered  with  the  most 
elegant  and  costly  buildings  of  New  York,  and  the 
property  held  by  Trinity,  as  a  whole,  is  in  parts  of  the 
city  where  the  land  is  most  valuable.  It  lies  on  Broad- 
way, between  the  Battery  and  Fourteenth  Street,  and 
spreads  out  like  a  fan.  It  embraces  wharves,  ferries, 
dock  privileges,  and  depots ;  immense  blocks  on  Broad- 
way, of  marble,  granite,  iron,  and  brown-stone  ;  splendid 
stores,  hotels,  theatres,  churches,  and  private  mansions. 
The  most  costly  and  splendid  buildings  in  New  York 
stand  on  leased  ground,  and  the  owners  pay  a  ground- 
rent.  Leases  usually  run  for  twenty-one  years,  contain- 
ing several  renewals  on  a  new  valuation.  A  Trinity 
Church  lease,  with  its  peculiar  privileges  and  covenants, 
is  one  of  the  most  desirable  titles  in  the  city. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  279 


AS  A  PARISH. 

Trinity  is  a  close  corporation.  Its  vast  property  is 
managed  by  a  vestry  of  five  persons,  who  have  plenipo- 
tentiary power.  Trinity  is  the  Cathedral  of  America. 
Attached  to  it  are  three  chapels  in  different  parts  of 
New  York  — St.  Paul's,  St.  John's,  and  Trinity.  It 
has  a  rector  and  eight  assistants.  The  house  of  wor- 
ship is  the  most  costly  and  grand  on  the  island.  Daily 
services  are  held,  and  a  choir  of  surpliced  boys  sing. 
Her  great  tower  fronts  Wall  Street ;  it  contains  a  chime 
of  bells,  that  ring  out  the  hours,  halves,  and  quarters, 
announcing  to  the  worshippers  of  Mammon  how 
passes  life. 

THE    YOUNG   RECTOR. 

The  first  position  the  church  has  to  offer,  superior  in 
influence  to  that  of  a  bishop,  is  that  of  rector.  This 
official  controls  the  immense  revenues  of  the  church. 
Dr.  Berrian,  the  old  rector,  held  his  position  for  a  great 
many  years.  Quite  a  number  of  the  old  ministers  were 
looking  for  his  place  when  he  should  depart.  Among 
the  number  was  young  Mr.  Dix,  son  of  General  Dix. 
He  still  looks  like  a  college  student.  He  had  tact, 
energy,  and  executive  ability.  Dr.  Berrian  was  very 
old,  and  could  do  but  little  business.  The  assistant 
ministers  took  their  ease,  and  did  not  care  about  hard 
work.  The  laboring  oar  was  put  into  the  hands  of 
young  Dix.  He  seemed  to  like  nothing  better.  Every- 
thing was  done  by  him  in  time,  and  done  well.  He 
arranged  the  business  that  came  before  the  vestry, 
drew  the  papers,  and  kept  everything  as  systematic  as 
a  bank.  The  assistant  ministers  were  very  glad  to  have 


280  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

young  Dix  do  the  work,  and  the  old  rector  found  it 
very  convenient  to  have  a  young,  smart  assistant  on 
whom  he  could  rely. 

The  charter  of  Trinity  allowed  the  appointment  of 
an  assistant  rector.  The  position  had  been  vacant  for 
twenty-five  years.  To  the  surprise  of  everybody,  Dr. 
Berrian  nominated  young  Dix  to  that  vacant  position. 
The  whole  matter  was  a  secret  till  the  nomination  was 
made.  The  seven  assistants  saw  in  the  movement  a 
successor  to  Dr.  Berrian.  They  opposed  the  nomina- 
tion, and  asked  for  delay.  The  fact  that  Mr.  Dix  was 
youngest  in  years,  and  youngest  in  orders,  was  pointed 
out.  But  the  nomination  was  confirmed  and  accepted 
on  the  spot,  and  Mr.  Dix  became,  in  fact,  the  rector  of 
Trinity.  On  the  death  of  Dr.  Berrian,  Mr.  Dix  was 
unanimously  elected  rector,  and  was  at  once  inducted 
into  office,  without  audience,  without  music,  without 
religious  service.  But  few  of  the  assistant  ministers 
were  present.  With  the  wardens,  the  rector  walked 
from  the  vestry  to  the  north  porch,  and  from  thence  to 
the  main  entrance.  Here  the  keys  were  handed  to 
him,  —  an  emblem  of  authority,  —  and  the  ceremony 
ended.  The  salary  of  the  rector  and  of  the  assistants 
is  any  sum  they  may  need.  Annexed  is  a  fine  house 
well  furnished,  holiday  gifts,  tour  in  Europe,  provision 
for  wife  and  children  if  the  husband  dies,  and  a  set- 
tlement for  life.  A  minister  of  Trinity  has  a  metro- 
politan fame,  and  distant  dioceses  often  send  to  Trinity 
for  their  bishops. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  281 


TRINITY     SERVICES. 

The  choral  service  is  one  of  the  specialities  of  Old 
Trinity.  It  was  introduced,  in  its  present  order,  by 
Dr.  Cutler,  who  succeeded  Dr.  Hodge  as  organist.  A 
choir  of  boys  was  introduced  in  connection  with  the 
voices  of  men ;  the  whole,  dressed  in  white  surplices, 
make  quite  a  show  in  the  chancel.  The  distance  of 
the  great  organ  over  the  main  entrance  from  the  choir 
made  it  necessary  to  introduce  a  chancel  organ,  which 
was  opened  with  great  ceremony.  Not  the  least  curi- 
ous was  the  presence  of  an  old  organist,  who,  over  sixty 
years  ago,  played  the  first  chant  that  was  introduced 
into  the  Episcopal  Church  in  this  country.  So  strange 
was  the  performance,  that  the  authorities  of  St.  John's 
Chapel  were  outraged  by  the  innovation.  The  vestry 
formally  waited  upon  Bishop  Hobart,  and  demanded 
that  he  should  put  a  stop  to  such  outlandish  music.  So 
little  were  chants  understood  or  enjoyed  even  in  the 
Episcopal  Church  at  that  day  !  The  bishop  declined  to 
interfere,  and  chants,  became  popular.  The  choral 
service  is  very  taking.  Everything  is  sung  in  the  ser- 
vice that  can  be  sung  —  the  Psalter,  the  Creed,  as  well 
as  other  parts  of  the  service.  The  people  are  mere 
spectators.  The  ministers  and  choir  within  the  chancel- 
rail  have  it  all  to  themselves.  The  music  is  very  dif- 
ficult, and  it  is  sung  in  such  rapid  time  that  an  un- 
trained voice  cannot  keep  up.  The  service  opens  on 
Sunday  with  a  thronged  house  —  aisles  and  vestibules 
full.  The  crowd  remains  till  the  singing  is  over  and 
the  sermon  begins.  Then  it  disperses,  as  if  the  per- 
formance was  complete.  It  is  very  difficult  to  hear  the 


282  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

officiating  ministers  in  Trinity.  Most  that  they  say,  so 
far  as  the  people  are  concerned,  might  almost  as  well 
be  said  in  a  Latin  tongue.  There  is  scarcely  a  good 
reader  or  speaker  in  the  whole  force  of  Trinity.  The 
utterances  are  indistinct,  and  the  tone  low,  as  if  the 
reader  did  not  care  whether  the  persons  in  the  house 
heard  or  not. 

At  the  opening  service  the  leader  of  the  music  comes 
out  of  the  robing-room  dressed  in  a  black  gown,  followed 
by  about  forty  or  fifty  boys  and  men  in  surplices. 
The  rector  leads,  followed  by  a  train  of  clergy  in  white 
robes.  On  the  opening  of  the  vestry  door  the  audience 
rise,  and  keep  on  their  feet  till  the  procession  move 
into  the  chancel  and  are  seated.  The  priest  intones 
the  service  after  the  manner  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
The  preacher  for  the  day  is  escorted  from  the  vestry  to 
the  pulpit  by  the  sexton,  who  waits  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  till  the  minister  is  seated.  The  rector  of  Trinity 
is  thoroughly  High  Church.  He  introduces  into  the 
services  all  the  pomp,  display,  and  ritualism  that  Epis- 
copacy will  permit.  He  models  his  service  in  as  close 
imitation  of  the  Catholic  worship  as  the  steady  Prot- 
estantism of  New  York  will  bear. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  283 


XXXI. 

CONSPIRACY     AGAINST     PRESIDENT 
LINCOLN. 

THE   PRESIDENT     IN     THE   CITY.  —  THE    CONSPIRATORS.  —  FEELING     IN    WASH- 
INGTON. —  PLOT   DISCOVERED.  —  VISIT   TO    MR.    LINCOLN. 

THE   PRESIDENT    IN   THE    CITY. 

THE  attention  of  the  people  of  New  York  was  called 
to  Mr.  Lincoln  in  1860.  He  was  announced  to  deliver 
a  political  address  in  Cooper  Institute.  The  audience 
was  fair,  but  the  room  was  by  no  means  full.  He  was 
a  remarkable  looking  man,  —  decidedly  western,  tall, 
lank,  and  bony,  with  an  enormous  neck,  that  shot  up 
from  a  low,  turned-down  collar,  hair  apparently  un- 
combed, his  dress  slouchy  and  countrified,  his  oratory 
uninviting ;  and  the  impression  he  made  was  not  very 
marked.  A  gentleman  called  upon  him  at  his  rooms 
in  the  Astor,  and  knocking  at  the  door,  received  an  in- 
vitation to  "  come  in."  He  found  Mr.  Lincoln  just  in 
the  act  of  putting  on  his  shirt.  Without  the  slightest 
embarrassment,  he  asked  the  visitor  to  be  seated,  while 
he  continued  his  work,  adding,  "  We  must  do  this  or  go 
dirty."  On  his  way  to  Washington,  after  his  election 
to  the  Presidency,  his  friends  received  him  with  all 
honor  in  the  city,  and  escorted  him  to  the  Astor  House, 


284  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

where  rooms  were  provided  for  him.  Here  he  received 
all  comers  with  affability,  and  displayed  those  genial 
traits  of  character  which  made  him  so  humorous  and 
entertaining  in  the  White  House.  He  brought  with 
him,  from  his  western  home,  his  simple  and  unaffected 
habits.  The  cares  of  state  sat  easily  upon  him.  He 
put  on  no  airs.  He  saw  no  reason  why  he  should  not 
enjoy  himself  as  President,  as  he  did  when  he  was  plain 
Abraham  Lincoln.  At  the  Astor  House  he  waited  on 
himself.  If  he  wanted  a  thing  he  went  after  it.  He 
did  the  same  at  Washington.  If  he  wanted  to  see  Mr. 
Seward  or  Mr.  Stanton,  instead  of  sending  for  those 
officials,  he  put  on  his  hat  and  ran  over  to  the  Depart- 
ment, as  he  would  have  run  to  a  brother  lawyer's  office 
in  Illinois.  He  went  the  rounds  of  the  Departments  in 
the  evening.  If  missed  from  his  office,  those  in  the 
secret  could  track  him  from  point  to  point  till  lie  was 
found. 

Politicians  crowded  on  him  while  he  was  in  New 
York.  The  man  who  was  fortunate  enough  to  get  hold 
of  him  was  sure  of  a  patient  auditor  till  he  closed. 
It  was  so  during  all  of  his  official  life.  If  a  case  was 
commended  to  his  attention  he  would  hear  it  through. 
Men  beset  him  in  his  private  walks ;  headed  him  off 
while  on  horseback ;  hid  behind  trees,  to  fall  upon  him 
as  he  passed  along,  knowing  that  if  they  could  but 
speak  to  him  he  would  give  them  a  patient  hearing 
until  they  were  through. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  285 

THE  CONSPIRATORS. 

Among  the  visitors  at  the  White  House  was  a  person 
very  notorious  in  New  York,  with  whom  no  reputable 
woman  would  willingly  be  seen  on  Broadway.  He  had 
travelled  much  in  Europe  ;  by  what  means  few  could 
tell.  Those  not  acquainted  with  his  inner  life  could 
be  easily  imposed  upon  by  the  appearance  and  conversa- 
tion of  the  man.  He  was  very  officious  in  his  attention 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lincoln,  especially  the  latter.  His  fre- 
quent visits  to  Washington,  and  his  receptions  at  the 
White  House,  were  noticed  by  the  friends  of  the 
President.  At  all  of  the  receptions  of  Mrs.  Lincoln  he 
was  an  early  and  constant  visitor.  At  the  informal  re- 
ceptions he  was  found.  No  one  went  so  early  but  this 
person  could  be  seen  cosily  seated  in  a  chair  as  if  at 
home,  talking  to  the  ladies  of  the  White  House.  None 
called  so  late  but  they  found  him  still  there.  The 
servants  of  the  White  House  marked  his  familiarity, 
his  coming  and  going.  The  officials  who  had  the  honor 
of  the  President's  mansion  in  charge  felt  keenly  the 
constant  inquiries  about  the  visits  of  this  man.  More 
than  once,  persons  from  different  sections  of  the  country, 
who  were  annoyed  that  they  could  never  enter  the 
White  House  without  encountering  this  New  Yorker, 
would  accost  the  doorkeeper  with  questions  like  these : 
"  Do  the  ladies  receive  to-night  ?  "  "  Yes,  sir,  at  eight 
o'clock."  "Are  they  in  the  drawing-room?"  "Yes, 
sir."  «  Has  anybody  called  ?  "  "I  believe  a  gentleman 
has."  "What  is  his  name?"  "He  is  a  gentleman 

from  New  York,  sir."    "  Is  it  Mr. ?  "    (Reluctantly) 

"  I  believe  he  is  in  there,  sir."     "  What  is  he  here  at 


286  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

the  White  House  so  much  for  ?  "     (With  a  shrug  of 
the  shoulders)  u  I  can't  say,  sir." 

THE  FEELING   IN   WASHINGTON. 

The  people  in  Washington  are  very  proud  of  the 
chief  magistrate's  family.  The  house  and  the  Presi- 
dent's grounds  are  open  to  all  citizens.  The  receptions, 
levees,  drawing-rooms,  to  which  all  respectable  persons 
have  access,  supply  the  place  of  operas,  balls,  concerts, 
and  lectures.  Distinguished  persons  who  visit  the 
capital,  the  delegations  sent  from  all  parts  of  the 
country,  the  public  receptions  given  by  the  President, 
bind  up  the  citizens  of  Washington  with  the  family  of 
the  chief  magistrate.  Anything  that  touches  the 
honor  or  the  fame  of  the  White  House  touches  the 
people  of  the  District,  as  if  a  shadow  had  fallen  on  their 
own  homes.  The  bad  repute  of  the  person  referred  to 
was  well  known  in  Washington.  His  constant  visits  to 
the  mansion  were  well  known,  and  were  the  theme  of 
general  remark.  More  than  once  he  had  been  seen 
riding  in  the  President's  coach,  with  the  ladies,  through 
Pennsylvania  Avenue.  Frequently  he  was  found  loun- 
ging in  the  conservatory,  or  smoking  in  the  grounds, 
very  much  at  home,  and  not  at  all  anxious  to  hide  his 
presence.  The  public  press  began  to  speak  out,  and 
was  not  at  all  complimentary  to  the  President's  family. 
Some  of  the  western  papers  printed  articles  in  relation 
to  this  matter  that  were  scandalous.  Two  of  the  leading 
daily  papers  of  New  York  had  articles  of  a  similar  im- 
port. It  was  evident  that  soon  the  scandal  would  be 
public  unless  something  was  done  to  reassure  the  pub- 
lic conscience. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  287 


PLOT   DISCOVERED. 

A  few  friends  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  believed  that  the 
whole  of  this  matter  was  a  scheme  to  strike  him  through 
his  household,  and  so  obtain  office  and  preferment,  re- 
solved to  probe  the  matter  to  the  bottom.  They  col- 
lected the  rumors,  reduced  the  scandal  to  shape,  cut 
out  from  the  newspapers  the  various  articles  in  relation 
to  the  matter  that  were  going  the  rounds,  and  met  in 
a  quiet  manner  to  see  what  could  be  done.  I  was 
present  at  that  first  meeting,  when  it  was  resolved,  in 
a  quiet  way,  to  track  these  scandals  to  their  source. 
It  was  easily  done.  The  person  whose  presence  at 
Washington  created  so  much  scandal  was  known  to  be 
penniless,  and  in  his  career  must  be  supported  by  some 
parties  in  New  York,  who  were  using  him  as  their  tool. 
Such  was  found  to  be  the  case.  Ostensibly  a  man 
and  woman  in  the  city  were  his  backers.  They  fur- 
nished him  with  money  and  instructions.  Pie  was  to  go 
to  Washington,  make  himself  agreeable  to  the  ladies, 
insinuate  himself  into  the  White  House,  attend  levees, 
show  that  he  had  power  to  come  and  go,  and,  if  possi- 
ble, open  a  correspondence  with  the  ladies  of  the  man- 
sion, no  matter  how  indifferent  the  subject  might  be. 
Having  obtained  influence  and  tangible  proof  of  his 
standing  with  the  ladies  of  the  White  House,  his  back- 
ers, in  due  time,  would  make  such  use  of  his  influence 
as  would  prove  profitable  to  them.  The  wretched  tool 
did  his  work  well,  and  for  a  time  success  promised  to 
crown  his  labors.  He  sent  regular  bulletins  to  New 
York,  stating  how  well  he  was  succeeding  in  his  dirty 
work ;  how  he  visited  the  mansion  ;  what  was  said  and 


288  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

done ;  what  notes  were  sent  to  him,  with  copies  of  the 
same  ;  how  he  visited  the  library  and  private  apart- 
ments of  the  President,  rambled  through  the  conserva- 
tory, and  outsat  all  comers  at  the  receptions. 

VISIT   TO    MR.    LINCOLN. 

It  was  considered  that  the  President  should  be  made 
acquainted  with  this  plot  against  his  honor.  I  was  ap- 
pointed to  lay  the  papers  before  him.  I  went  to  Wash- 
ington, and,  in  company  with  a  United  States  senator, 
called  at  the  White  House  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing. The  vestibule  was  crowded  with  people  from  all 
parts  of  the  country,  soldiers  and  officers.  The  ante- 
room was  crowded  with  senators  and  their  friends, 
anxious  to  be  introduced  to  the  President.  As  we  ap- 
proached the  door,  the  official  shook  his  head,  saying, 
"  The  President  is  engaged  with  the  Secretary  of  State, 
and  you  cannot  see  him  at  present."  The  senator 
belonged  to  the  military  department,  which  at  that 
time  took  precedence  of  all  others.  The  door  opened, 
and  we  passed  in.  The  President  was  in  his  office  with 
Mr.  Seward  and  the  Secretary  of  War.  The  business 
was  evidently  not  as  pressing  as  the  official  at  the  door 
imagined.  The  President  was  lying  off,  listening  with 
great  gusto  to  a  first-class  story  Mr.  Seward  was  relat- 
ing. We  heard  enough  of  it  to  join  in  the  hearty 
laugh  at  the  close.  The  senator  then  addressed  Mr. 
Seward,  saying,  "  Governor,  you  have  bored  the  Presi- 
dent long  enough.  My  friend  wants  to  see  him  on 
some  private  business,  and  I  want  you  to  talk  to  me." 
The  President  took  me  by  the  hand,  led  me  into  the 
office  of  his  private  secretary,  whom  he  drove  out,  and 


IN  NEW  YORK.  289 

locked  the  door.  Taking  a  seat  beside  me  on  the  sofa, 
his  first  words  were,  "  Now,  what  do  you  want  of  me  ?" 
I  stated  the  purpose  of  my  visit,  presented  him  with  the 
extracts  cut  from  the  paper  reflecting  on  his  family, 
gave  him  the  names  of  the  conspirators,  and  the  sub- 
•stance  of  notes  that  had  passed  between  the  miserable 
tool  and  his  employers,  and  told  him  the  vagabond  was 
at  that  moment  down  stairs  entertaining  his  family. 
"  Give  me  those  papers,"  said  the  President,  "  and  sit 
here  till  I  return."  He  started  out  of  the  room  with 
strides  that  showed  an  energy  of  purpose.  Shortly 
after  he  returned,  grasped  me  warmly  by  the  hand,  and 
led  me  back  into  the  room,  and  in  company  with  the 
senator  I  took  my  leave.  The  scorpion  was  driven 
from  the  mansion  that  night,  and  although  he  was  seen 
once  or  twice  after  in  the  Presidential  grounds,  and 
was  said  to  be  loitering  round  the  conservatory,  yet 
he  disappeared  soon  from  the  mansion,  and  the  plot 
exploded. 

19 


290  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XXXII. 

INCIDENTS   IN   CITY   EVANGELIZATION, 


THE  NEW  YORK  CITY  MISSION.  —  ORIGIN  OF  THE  WORK.  — THRILLING  INCI- 
DENTS. —  TEMPERANCE  IN  A  RUM  SALOON.  —  RESCUE  OF  THE  DESTITUTE. 
—  A  SOLDIER  IN  TROUBLE.  —  A  YOUNG  MAN'S  STORY.  —  NOT  EASILY 
DISCOURAGED.  —  A  MISSIONARY'S  DAILY  WORK.  —  A  FOOL  ANSWERED 
ACCORDING  TO  HIS  FOLLY. 


ORIGIN    OF   THE   WORK. 

THE  New  York  City  Mission,  though  not  under  that 
name,  was  founded  February  19,  1827.  Into  this 
was  merged  the  Young  Men's  Tract  Society,  which  wras 
formed  in  1825.  The  work  of  the  society  for  two 
years  was  to  supply  with  tracts  the  shipping,  markets, 
humane  and  criminal  institutions,  and  the  outskirts  of 
the  city.  In  June,  1832,  a  new  feature  in  the  work 
was  introduced,  especially  by  the  lamented  Harlan 
Page.  It  was  the  concentrated  effort  and  prayer  for 
the  salvation  of  individuals.  This  gave  directness  and 
efficiency  to  the  society,  and  missionaries  were  em- 
ployed to  labor  in  the  destitute  wards  of  the  city. 
From  November,  1834,  to  1866,  the  number  of  regular 
missionaries  increased  from  twelve  to  forty-five.  The 
work  among  the  New  York  poor  and  neglected  has 


IN  NEW  YORK.  291 

continued  for  forty  years.  The  society  now  employs 
forty-six  missionaries,  with  twenty  stations.  These 
men,  during  the  past  year,  have  made  about  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  thousand  visits  to  the  neglected  homes 
of  the  city,  have  reached  fifty-three  thousand  nine  hun- 
dred families,  and  have  distributed  nearly  two  millions 
of  tracts  in  twelve  different  tongues.  Walking  through 
the  lanes  and  by-ways  of  the  city,  they  persuade  multi- 
tudes to  go  to  the  house  of  God  and  to  the  Sunday- 
school.  Their  work  among  neglected  and  vagrant  boys 
and  girls  is  very  successful.  Temporary  relief  has  been 
afforded  to  the  needy,  and  employment  found  for  the 
stranger.  Friendless  girls  —  and  they  are  counted  by 
thousands  —  have  been  led  to  homes  of  security  and 
protection.  Fallen  women  have  been  led  back  to  the 
path  of  rectitude,  and  over  ten  thousand  have  been  led 
to  attend  some  place  of  public  worship.  Young  men 
have  been  enlisted  in  the  mission  work  ;  religious  read- 
ing has  been  furnished  to  police  stations  and  the  rooms 
of  firemen ;  and  this  presents  but  a  feeble  view  of  the 
work  of  all  shades  and  hues  that  the  lowly  demand,  and 
these  devout  and  self-denying  men  perform. 

THRILLING   INCIDENTS. 

No  book  of  romance  could  be  made  as  thrilling  as 
one  filled  with  the  details  of  real  life  among  the  desti- 
tute poor  of  New  York.  Men  and  women  coine  here 
from  all  the  cities  and  towns  of  the  Union  and  the 
world.  They  come  for  hope  of  gain ;  to  make  a  for- 
tune ;  to  get  a  livelihood,  and  to  hide  their  characters 
in  the  wilderness  of  this  great  people.  Many  bring 
with  them  a  little  money,  and  hope  to  increase  their 


292  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

store.  Many  are  seduced  from  home  by  offers  of  em- 
ployment. Many  come  under  promises  of  marriage. 
Sickness,  bad  society,  sudden  temptation  and  crime 
plunge  them  into  want.  Many  sincerely  repent,  but 
are  not  able  to  escape  from  the  mire  into  which  they 
have  fallen.  The  arm  of  the  benevolent  and  the  reli- 
gious must  help  and  rescue  the  fallen.  In  the  thousands 
of  visits  that  missionaries  pay,  facts  that  thrill  the  heart 
and  move  the  compassion  are  daily  gathered. 

TEMPERANCE   IN   A   BUM    SALOON. 

In  a  saloon  where  tracts  had  been  previously  left 
without  opposition,  the  keeper  said  to  the  assistant,  "  I 
wish  you  and  your  tracts  were  in  hell ;  you  have  made 
my  customers  crazy ;  you  have  injured  my  business." 
This  was  said  with  oaths  and  curses.  As  the  visitor  left 
the  house,  a  man  followed  him,  who  said,  "  That  bar- 
keeper told  some  truth.  I  was  a  hard  drinker ;  within 
six  months  I  have  spent  five  hundred  dollars  in  his 
house ;  but  since  I  read  your  tracts  I  have  quit  drink- 
ing, and  spent  my  time  in  seeking  my  soul's  salvation." 
He  stated  that  three  others  had  followed  his  example, 
and  they  went  together  to  church  on  the  Sabbath. 

As  the  assistant  was  crossing  the  Brooklyn  ferry,  he 
was  accosted  by  a  genteelly-dressed  man,  who  said,  "I 
believe  you  are  the  person  who,  in  August  last,  took  a 
wretched,  bloated  drunkard  into  the  mission  in  Green- 
wich Street.  After  he  signed  the  pledge,  you  gave  him 
some  clothing,  and  money  to  pay  his  fare  to  Brooklyn." 
The  assistant  remembered  such  a  case.  "  Well,"  said 
the  man,  "  I  am  that  man.  Leaving  you,  I  went  to  my 
old  employer,  told  him  I  had  signed  the  pledge,  and 


IN  NEW   YORK.  293 

asked  him  to  try  me  again.  With  many  fears  he  took 
me  back.  I  thank  God  that  by  his  grace  I  have  kept 
my  pledge,  and  gained  my  employer's  confidence.  I 
am  now  a  member  of  the  church,  and  an  officer  in 
the  Sabbath  school." 

RESCUE   OF   THE   DESTITUTE. 

A  Christian  lady,  riding  from  Newark  to  New  York, 
met  in  the  cars  a  girl  in  distress,  and  on  reaching  the 
city,  she  led  her  to  the  mission.  The  girl's  story  was 
briefly  this  :  She  was  a  German  orphan,  sixteen  years, 
old,  at  service  in  Erie,  Pa.  Another  girl  had  persuaded 
her  to  go  with  her  to  New  York,  where,  she  was  told, 
she  could  live  without  doing  much  work.  Having 
money  on  hand,  saved  from  her  earnings,  she  agreed 
to  go  ;  and  they  started  together.  At  Dunkirk,  in  the 
changing  of  cars,  they  became  separated,  and  this  girl 
remained  and  took  the  next  train.  f  A  respectable  look- 
ing woman  in  the  same  car,  seeing  her  weep,  tendered 
her  sympathy,  and  told  her  she  lived  in  New  York,  and 
would  take  her  to  a  good  place.  On  their  arrival  at 
Jersey  City,  she  took  the  cars  for  Newark,  N.  J.,  where 
they  put  up  at  a  public  house,  and  occupied  the  same 
room  for  the  night.  When  the  girl  awoke  in  the 
morning,  her  money,  and  her  clothing,  and  her  friend 
were  gone.  She  could  not  leave  her  room  ;  she  was 
completely  stripped.  The  wife  of  the  hotel-keeper  had 
compassion  on  her,  and  gave  her  an  old  dress  and  a 
ticket  to  this  city.  Her  experience  among  strangers 
had  made  her  anxious  to  return  home.  *  The  funds 
needful  to  clothe  her  comfortably  and  procure  a  pas- 
sage ticket  to  Erie  were  raised,  and  in  a  few  days 


294  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

she  left  for  home,  grateful  that  she  had  been  provi- 
dentially saved  from  ruin.  She  returned  to  the  family 
she  left,  and  in  writing,  says,  "  I  think  the  Lord  led  me 
to  your  mission  to  convert  me." 

A    SOLDIER   IN   TROUBLE. 

Being  requested  to  visit  a  needy  family,  the  mis- 
sionary hastened  to  the  place  given  as  their  abode. 
This  was  in  an  upper  room  of  an  old  tenant-house. 
On  inquiry,  he  found  it  to  be  the  family  of  one  who 
.had  fought  under  the  stars  and  stripes.  He  had  been 
discharged  from  the  service.  His  wife  was  confined  to 
her  bed  by  sickness,  and  was  so  feeble  as  to  be  seem- 
ingly but  just  alive.  Three  small  but  interesting  chil- 
dren were  shivering  over  a  scanty  fire.  The  soldier- 
husband  and  father  acted  as  nurse  and  housekeeper. 
His  room,  both  in  order  and  cleanliness,  gave  evidence 
that  he  was  one  gf  those  who  could  turn  his  hand  to 
almost  everything.  Generous  persons  placed  means  in 
the  hands  of  the  missionaries  for  benevolent  purposes, 
and  the  family  was  relieved.  Spiritual  as  well  as 
temporal  ministrations  were  thankfully  received,  and 
the  missionary  always  found  a  wrelcome. 

A   YOUNG   MAN'S    STORY. 

"In  September,  1857,  I  left  my  country  home  to 
seek  my  fortune  in  the  metropolis  of  the  nation,  willing 
to  work  at  anything  that  Providence  should  place  in 
my  way,  unmindful  what  it  might  be.  Upon  my  arrival 
here,  the  crisis  was  just  beginning  to  tell  with  fearful 
effect  upon  all  classes.  Persons  in  almost  every  branch 
of  industry  were  thrown  out  of  employment,  and  even 


IN   NEW   YORK.  295 

the  best  known  and  most  skilful  found  it  difficult  to 
obtain  work  at  the  then  greatly  reduced  rates  of  com- 
pensation. I  had  previously  worked  at  a  trade,  but 
leaving  before  my  time  had  expired  I  was  not  entitled 
to  a  recommendation,  nor  did  I  get  one.  I  had  recourse 

to  Mr. the  missionary's  kind  offices.     I  called  on 

him,  stated  my  case,  and  after  he  had  listened  to  my 
story,  he  concluded  to  give  me  a  recommendation,  in 
substance  as  follows  :  — 

66 '  This  is  to  certify  that  I  believe to  be  a  faith- 
ful, honest,  and  industrious  boy,  and  that  I  take  great 
pleasure  in  recommending  him  to  any  person  who  may 
need  his  services,  feeling  satisfied  that  all  work  given 
him  will  be  performed  to  the  best  of  his  ability.' 

"With  this  in  my  pocket,  I  again  went  forth,  and 
soon  succeeded  in  obtaining  work  at  the  miserable 
pittance  of  a  dollar  and  a  half  per  week,  in  a  large 
manufactory  where  they  were  making  a  new  article,  on 
which  the  profits  were  at  least  a  hundred  per  cent.  I 
worked  there  for  eighteen  months,  and  the  largest  sum 
I  obtained  was  two  dollars  and  a  half  per  week.  During 
this  time  my  winter  evenings  were  spent  in  reading 
and  at  night  school,  never  going  to  a  place  of  amuse- 
ment of  any  kind  but  once  in  all  that  time.  In  this 
way  I  became  more  perfect  in  my  education,  and  when 
fortune  smiled  on  me  I  found  myself  reasonably  com- 
petent to  meet  its  duties ;  and  commencing  in  my  posi- 
tion at  a  salary  of  nine  dollars  per  week,  it  has  gone  on 
increasing  until  now  it  is  two  thousand  dollars  a  year. 
Many  times  during  the  last  nine  years  I  had  promised 
myself  the  pleasure  of  calling  on  and  thanking  the 
kind  giver  of  that  recommendation,  to  which  I  owe  my 


296  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

present  success  ;  but  through  some  means  or  other  my 
good  intentions  were  not  carried  into  execution  in 
time  to  see  my  generous  friend  on  earth,  and  I  can 
show  my  gratitude  in  no  better  way  than  in  aiding  the 
good  work  in  which  he  was  engaged,  which  I  propose 
doing  in  proportion  to  my  means." 

NOT   EASILY   DISCOURAGED. 

The  quarter  just  closing  has  had  its  usual  measure  of 
labor,  disappointments,  and  success.  A  man  with  very 
bad  clothes  and  worse  habits  had  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  our  assistant,  who  not  only  supplied  his  most 
pressing  wants,  but  took  him  also  under  the  shelter  of 
his  roof.  Abusing  the  kindness  of  his  benefactor,  the 
man  one  day  came  home  intoxicated,  and  instead  of 
turning  him  from  the  door,  Jason,  full  of  patience  and 
benevolence,  shut  him  up  in  the  garret.  After  much 
salutary  counsel  and  judicious  treatment  he  was  in- 
duced to  enter  the  army,  where  he  faithfully  served, 
until,  being  wounded,  he  was  compelled  to  return. 
Upon  his  recovery  he  reenlisted,  and,  as  a  member  of 
an  invalid  corps,  is  still  in  service.  The  second  time  he 
left  the  city  he  begged  brother  Jason  to  pray  for  him 
continually  —  a  request  that  has  been  faithfully  met. 
From  time  to  time  he  has  sent  his  earnings  home,  until 
there  are  five  hundred  dollars  saved.  Better  than  this, 
he  lias  begun  to  lay  up  for  himself  treasure  in  heaven. 
As  he  had  it  in  his  heart  to  be  a  Christian,  he  thought 
he  must  stop  smoking,  and  expressive  of  his  determina- 
tion he  sent  to  his  friend  as  vile  a  package  as  was  ever 
transmitted  by  express  —  a  quantity  of  tobacco  and  the 
stump  of  an  old  pipe.  In  a  letter  just  received,  he 


IN  NEW  YORK.  297 

says,  "  You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  I  sat  down  to  the 
table  of  our  Lord  on  the  first  Sabbath  in  June,  having 
made  profession  of  my  faith." 


A  MISSIONARY'S  DAILY  WORK. 


Like  his  experience,  the  duties  of  a  city  missionary 
are  at  times  very  peculiar.  This  is  true,  at  least,  when- 
ever he  has  to  convert  a  butcher's  shop  into  a  mission 
station.  For  example,  he  begins  the  day  at  an  early 
hour,  and  is  occupied  with  things  ordinary  and  ex- 
traordinary until  ten.  He  then  goes  over  to  James 
Pyle's  to  beg  a  box  of  soap ;  and,  glad  at  the  success  of 
his  errand,  he  runs  two  or  three  blocks  on  his  way  back, 
out  of  mere  forge tfulness.  Now  he  has  directions  to 
give  some  workmen  waiting  to  receive  him  ;  a  conversa- 
tion with  the  gas-fitter,  and  a  conference  with  the  car- 
penter, which  is  presently  interrupted  by  the  woman 
who  has  come  to  clean,  declaring  that  nothing  worth 
naming  can  be  done  until  the  missionary  goes  to  the 
corner  grocery  for  "  a  scrubbing-brush  and  five  cents' 
worth  of  washing  soda."  These  procured,  it  is  found 
that  there  is  some  whitewashing  to  be  done,  and  un- 
fortunately there  is  no  one  but  "  the  man  of  all  work  " 
to  do  it ;  and  so,  because  the  work,  already  too  long 
delayed,  must  riot  be  hindered,  nothing  is  left  but  for 
the  poor  missionary  to  mount  a*n  empty  dry-goods  box 
and  swing  his  brush  until  two  long  hours  have  filled 
him  with  fatigue  and  disgust.  But  it  is  twelve  o'clock, 
and  he  has  scarcely  time  for  a  hasty  washing  of  hands 
and  face,  the  removal  of  sundry  "  trade  marks "  from 
his  coat  and  hat,  and  the  polishing  of  his  boots  with  a 
newspaper,  for  he  has  an  appointment  shortly  after 
noon. 


298  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

In  an  upper  room  a  little  company  is  gathered,  while 
below  a  hearse  and  carriage  stand  waiting  at  the  door. 
For  the  days  of  only  one  week  was  the  daughter  and 
sister  visited  before  death  came  to  put  an  end  to  all 
preparation.  Looking  upon  the  peaceful  form,  clad  in 
the  garments  of  the  grave,  where  before  the  violence 
of  pain  almost  prevented  the  utterance  of  bodily  fear, 
and  restless  desire,  and  ardent  hope  at  last,  a  theme  was 
at  once  suggested,  and  the  missionary  found  refreshment 
for  his  own  spirit  while  he  endeavored  to  comfort  and 
instruct  with  thoughts  of  the  happiness  of  that  home, 
and  of  the  nature  and  importance  of  the  efforts  to 
reach  it,  where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  and 
the  weary  are  at  rest. 

A  FOOL   ANSWERED    ACCORDING    TO    HIS  FOLLY. 

The  missionary  has  often  occasion  for  all  his  wits,  and 
must  sometimes  "  answer  a  fool  according  to  his  folly." 
On  the  top  floor  of  a  tenement-house  in  Mott  Street 
lives  a  shoemaker,  a  hard  drinker  and  a  scoffer  at  reli- 
gious things;  but  writh  all  this  a  good-tempered  fellowr, 
who  will  bear  plain  talking.  His  family,  and  some  girls 
who  work  with  him,  are  in  the  habit  of  attending  our 
meetings.  One  day  in  November,  as  the  assistant  was 
visiting  them,  with  an  evident  design  to  make  sport  of 
him  and  his  work,  the  shoemaker  turned  upon  him, 
saying,  "  Mr.  P ,  you  have  made  all  my  family  be- 
lieve there  is  a  devil:  now,  did  you  ever  see  him?" 
"  0,  yes,  sir,"  said  he, "  very  many  times.  I  can't  say  I 
ever  saw  the  big  old  devil  —  he  is  too  cunning  for 
that ;  but  I  have  seen  a  great  many  little  ones.  I  saw 
one  or  two  just  before  I  came  into  your  house."  He 


IN  NEW   YORK.  299 

wanted  to  know  how  they  looked.  u  Well,  they  were 
very  much  bloated  up,  eyes  red,  face  a  little  peeled  and 
bruised,  and,  phew !  what  a  breath  !  One  of  them 
seemed  to  be  holding  the  other  up ;  and  as  I  came  up 
stairs  they  were  holding  on  to  the  lamp-post  to  keep 
from  falling."  "  Well,  sir,"  said  he,  "  I  never  saw  the 
devil,  and  I'd  like  to  see'  one."  He  felt  he  was  in  for 
it,  that  the  women  were  laughing  at  him  behind  his 
back,  and  that  he  must  make  as  good  a  fight  as  he 
could.  With  that  the  assistant  led  him  up  to  his  glass, 
saying,  "  Look  there  ;  you  will  see  the  description  is  all 
right."  "Do  you  mean  to  call  me  a  devil?"  "Now, 
don't  get  mad  ;  you  know  you  began  it."  "  That's  so," 
said  he ;  "  but  I'd  like  to  have  you  prove  I'm  a  devil." 
"Well,  I'll  prove  you  are  a  little  one  from  Scripture.  The 
Savior  told  the  Jews, '  Ye  are  of  your  father  the  devil ; 
the  lusts  of  your  father  ye  will  do.'  And  the  apostle 
says,  '  Now  the  works  of  the  flesh '  —  that  is,  of  the 
devil  — '  are  manifest,  which  are  these  :  adulteries,  .  .  . 
murders,  drunkenness,  revellings,  and  such  like. "  With- 
out a  word,  he  turned  on  his  heel,  went  to  his  bench, 
and  took  up  his  lapstone.  "la  devil "  —  rap,  rap  — 
"  proved  too  by  Scripture  "  —  rap,  rap  —  "  pretty  tough 
that  on  a  fellow  "  —  rap,  rap,  rap.  His  wife  has  told  us 
he  has  not  taken  a  drop  since  of  any  kind  of  liquor, 
not  even  beer. 


300  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


XXXIII. 
POLICEMEN    ON    TRIAL. 

NEED  OF  DISCIPLINE. — MR.  ACTON  AS  A  JUDGE.  —  TRIALS  IN  THE  COURT- 
ROOM. —  HUMOR  AND  WIT.  —  TRYING  THE  COMPLAINANT.  —  A  PANEL- 
THIEF. 

NEED   OF  DISCIPLINE. 

To  enforce  discipline,  a  court  is  held  every  "Wednes- 
day at  headquarters.  Here  from  fifty  to  a  hundred 
patrolmen  are  arraigned  and  tried  every  week.  The 
trial  is  conducted,  in  some  respects,  with  the  formality 
of  a  court.  The  defendant  is  duly  cited  to  appear ;  he 
is  served  with  a  copy  of  the  charges  against  him,  and 
the  names  of  witnesses  to  be  examined.  Most  of  the 
charges  are  very  frivolous  —  such  as  sitting  down  when 
on  duty ;  reading  a  paper ;  standing  in  doorways ; 
stopping  on  the  streets  to  talk ;  off  his  beat ;  going 
into  a  house,  a  bar-room,  or  a  dram-shop ;  appearing 
without  gloves ;  neglecting  to  try  the  doors  to  see  if 
they  are  unfastened ;  not  responding  to  the  sergeant's 
rap ;  being  too  long  in  patrolling  his  post.  It  is  the 
duty  of  the  inspectors  to  follow  up  the  men,  watch 
them,  detect  them  in  little  errors,  and  report  them  for 
trial.  The  efficiency  of  the  force  demands  this. 


IN   NEW  YORK.  301 


MR.   ACTON  AS   A   JUDGE. 

In  the  third  story  of  the  building  used  as  the  head- 
quarters, the  court-room  is  located.  It  is  a  large,  well- 
lighted,  well-ventilated  room,  with  seats  for  about  a 
hundred,  a  bench  for  the  court,  with  ample  accommo- 
dations for  the  press  and  for  visitors.  At  ten  o'clock 
court  opens.  The  trials  are  held  by  Mr.  Acton,  the 
president  of  the  police  commission.  The  other  mem- 
bers occasionally  attend  and  look  on,  but  Mr.  Acton  has 
the  labor  of  the  trial  upon  himself.  He  is  judge,  jury, 
district  attorney,  and  counsel  for  the  defence.  He  is  a 
small  man,  wiry  and  nervous,  with  hair  prematurely 
gray,  which  he  wears  cut  close  to  his  head  like  a  prize- 
fighter. He  is  prompt  and  rapid  in  the  despatch  of 
business,  and  can  try  and  dispose  of  a  hundred  cases 
during  the  day.  Lawyers  are  seldom  employed,  as 
policemen  find  they  can  get  along  much  better  by 
telling  their  own  story  in  a  simple  and  direct  manner. 
When  lawyers  attend,  no  hair-splitting  is  allowed ;  no 
quibbles,  no  legal  subterfuges,  no  objection  to  this 
testimony  or  that  because  it  does  not  conform  to  legal 
rules.  The  court  is  one  of  equity.  The  officer  who 
arraigns  the  patrolman  tells  his  story  in  his  own  way ; 
and  the  defendant  tells  his  story,  brings  up  his  wit- 
nesses, and  the  case  is  disposed  of  at  once.  A  short- 
hand reporter  takes  down  every  word  of  the  testimony, 
and  this  is  submitted  to  the  full  board  before  a  decision 
is  rendered.  Mr.  Acton  has  been  in  the  force  eight 
years.  He  prepared  himself  for  his  present  duties  by 
a  close  attendance  on  the  police  trials  at  the  Tombs, 
especially  on  Sunday  morning.  He  is  very  shrewd 


302  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

and  talented.  He  is  very  adroit  in  putting  questions. 
He  can  break  a  nice-laid  scheme,  expose  a  well-told 
story,  and  bring  the  truth  out  by  two  or  three  sharp 
questions ;  and  the  work  he  does  in  a  day  would  take 
an  ordinary  court  a  week  to  discharge.  Out  of  two 
thousand  men  on  the  police,  all  are  not  saints ;  and  to 
do  fairly  by  the  city,  and  justly  by  the  men  arraigned, 
a  judge  must  have  a  cool  head,  ready  wit,  be  prompt 
and  decided,  be  a  good  judge  of  human  nature,  and 
have  strong  common  sense. 

TRIALS    IN    THE    COURT-ROOM. 

Half  an  hour  before  the  court  opens,  the  room  is  all 
alive.  Officers  and  men  and  witnesses  fill  it  full.  The 
captains,  in  full  uniform,  take  the  seat  of  honor  within 
the  iron  railing.  The  sergeants  have  chairs  outside  the 
railing,  and  the  men  huddle  together  on  the  benches. 
The  clerk  comes  in  with  an  armful  of  yellow  envelopes, 
which  contain  the  sworn  complaints.  Promptly  on 
time  Mr.  Acton  takes  his  seat,  and,  without  any  for- 
mality, calls  out  the  names  of  the  defendant,  the  com- 
plainant, and  the  witnesses.  The  defendant  steps 
forward,  the  charge  is  read  in  two  or  three  lines  :  "  Off 
duty  for  two  or  three  hours."  The  testimony  is  taken. 
"  How  is  that  ?  "  is  put  to  the  defendant.  He  makes 
his  statement,  brings  up  his  witnesses  if  he  has  any, 
and  the  next  case  is  called  before  the  witness  has  really 
done  speaking.  During  the  trial  Mr.  Acton  gives 
sound  advice,  words  of  caution,  admonitions  and  threats. 
To  turbulent  men  he  has  a  loud,  harsh,  sharp  tone,  that 
rasps  like  a  file.  Generally  he  is  tender  and  candid, 
and  has  much  patience.  If  he  thinks  the  officers  are 


IN  NEW  YORK.  303 

hard  on  the  men,  he  defends  the  men.  Conspiracies 
are  often  formed  to  break  men ;  but  such  plans  are  not 
only  frustrated,  but  are  usually  exposed,  by  the  keen 
dissecting-knife  that  lays  bare  the  motives. 

HUMOR   AND    WIT. 

There  is  a  great  deal  of  humor  in  these  trials,  and 
half  a  day  can  be  spent  very  pleasantly  in  seeing  how 
justice  is  administered  to  the  guardians  of  the  city.  A 
witness  is  called  upon.  u  State  what  you  know."  The 
policeman  asks  a  question,  but  dislikes  the  answer. 
Mr.  Acton  says,  "  You  asked  the  question  :  you  must 
take  the  answer  he  gives  you."  Four  witnesses  testify 
that  a  policeman  took  ten  dollars,  and  let  a  prisoner 
go.  The  policeman  denies  it.  "  They  all  lie,  do  they  ?  " 
Mr.  Acton  says.  A  man  is  arraigned  for  talking  twenty 
minutes.  "  Too  long,  Brown,  too  long.  You  must 
learn  to  tell  shorter  stories,  or  police  business  won't 
agree  with  you."  To  one  who  is  charged  with  coming 
out  of  a  brewery,  this  admonition  is  given :  "  You  must 
keep  out  of  breweries,  or  keep  out  of  the  station-house." 
One  man  was  off  duty  catching  a  goat.  "  Let  the  goats 
alone,  and  attend  to  your  business,"  is  the  rebuke.  In 
answer  to  the  charge  of  being  off  duty,  a  policeman 
said  he  went  into  a  house  to  look  after  a  drunken  man. 
"  Let  drunken  men  remain  in  the  house  when  they  are 
in  it;  you  have  no  business  with  them  there."  Two 
officers  were  brought  up  for  quarrelling:  one  pulled 
the  other's  nose.  "  Pretty  business,"  he  says,  "  for 
policemen  !  The  city  pays  you  twelve  hundred  dollars 
a  year  to  keep  the  peace,  and  the  first  thing  you  do  is 
to  go  and  break  it."  But  some  one  said,  "  They  shook 


304  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

hands  afterwards."  "  Well,"  said  Mr.  Acton,  "  that  is 
an  improvement  on  prize-fighting.  Prize-fighters  shake 
hands  before  they  go  into  the  fight,  but  seldom  when 
they  come  out  of  it.  What  shall  I  do  to  the  man  who 
pulled  your  nose  ?  "  "  Don't  break  him,  sir,"  the  com- 
plainant says.  A  policeman  is  accused  of  coming  out 
of  a  bakery.  He  went  there  to  get  some  coffee.  "  Did 
you  get  it  ?  "  «  Yes,  sir."  "  Well,  two  days'  pay  off 
for  that."  Another  is  accused  of  not  trying  the  doors 
on  his  beat,  to  see  if  they  were  fastened.  He  denies 
the  charge  of  neglect,  but  undertakes  to  split  hairs  on 
the  charge  that  he  neglected  to  try  all  his  doors.  In 
sharp  tones  the  president  says,  "  Don't  play  any  of 
your  fine  points ;  don't  try  any  of  your  dodges  here. 
You  confessed  your  neglect  of  duty,  and  I  shall  punish 
you  for  what  you  do  neglect,  not  for  what  you  don't." 
One  is  seen  coming  out  of  a  dram-shop.  He  makes 
some  frivolous  excuse.  He  knows  that  it  will  go  hard 
with  him,  as  the  president  shakes  his  head,  and  says, 
"  You  will  learn  to  keep  out  of  rum-shops  by  and  by." 
"  Keep  on  your  post,  Mr.  Brown,"  is  said  to  another. 
"  Off  your  post,  eh  ?  Went  to  get  some  coffee  ?  That's 
the  dearest  cup  of  coffee  you've  drank  this  year.  No 
coffee  on  duty."  "  Couldn't  be  found  on  your  post  for 
two  hours !  You  might  as  well  be  in  Harlem.  You 
had  better  seek  some  other  business."  "  Don't  know 
the  limit  of  your  post  ?  Go  and  find  out :  don't  bring 
that  excuse  here  again  for  being  off  duty."  "  Jones, 
you  must  get  a  new  coat  before  you  come  here  again. 
It  will  do  for  me  to  wear  such  a  coat  as  that,  not  you." 
A  man  comes  up  and  whispers  to  Mi\  Acton.  In  a  loud 
tone  Mr.  Acton  says,  "  This  man  requests  that  the 


IN  NEW   YORK.  305 

name  of  some  ladies  who  have  brought  charges  against 
policemen  may  be  kept  out  of  the  papers.  I  tell  him 
I  don't  run  newspapers,  and  have  no  control  over 
them.  I  have  been  trying  these  eight  years  to  keep 
my  own  name  out  of  the  paper,  but  I  haven't  suc- 
ceeded." "  You're  a  nice  young  gentleman,"  Mr.  Acton 
says  to  another ;  "  you  desert  your  post  without  leave. 
This  is  the  third  time  you  have  been  before  me  lately. 
You  had  better  take  your  buttons  off,  and  carry  them 
to  the  station.  Police  business  don't  agree  with  your 
constitution."  No  member  of  the  force  is  allowed  to 
be  in  debt.  To  one  against  whom  this  charge  is 
preferred,  Mr.  Acton  says,  "  Go  home,  settle  that  mat- 
ter before  you  sleep,  and  report  to  me  to-morrow 
morning."  And  so  the  trial  proceeds  till  the  yellow 
envelopes  are  exhausted,  and  every  one  has  had  a 
hearing. 

TRYING    THE    COMPLAINANT. 

The  humorous  part  of  the  trial  usually  takes  place  in 
the  afternoon.  The  morning  trials  are  for  breaches 
of  discipline,  preferred  by  inspectors,  captains,  or 
sergeants.  But  the  trials  in  the  afternoon  are  on  com- 
plaints preferred  by  citizens  who  consider  themselves 
aggrieved,  abused,  or  wronged  by  the  police.  In  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  the  investigation  proves  that  the  com- 
plainants were  in  the  wrong,  and  the  policemen  right. 
The  members  of  the  force  humorously  call  the  after- 
noon trials,  "  Trying  the  complainant."  The  charge 
is  usually  based  on  alleged  abuse  of  citizens ;  refusing 
to  make  arrests ;  beating  with  the  club ;  assaulting 
women ;  levying  black-mail ;  allowing  stores  to  be 
broken  open  on  their  beat,  and  other  charges.  After 
20 


306  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  complainant  has  told  his  story,  the  officer  tells  his ; 
and  usually,  if  a  man  has  been  beaten,  it  was  because 
he  resisted  the  officer.  Women  make  complaints  of 
brutal  treatment,  bring  ten  or  twenty  witnesses  to 
show  how  excellent  their  character  is,  cry  in  court 
over  the  wrongs  done  their  feelings  by  arrest,  and  get 
the  sympathy  of  the  crowd.  But  when  the  captain 
comes  up,  and  testifies  that  they  were  both  drunk  and 
disorderly  in  the  station-house  the  night  before,  and 
filled  the  room  with  profanity  and  obscenity,  the  women 
find  themselves  exposed,  often  shout  out  imprecations, 
and  flaunt  out  of  the  room. 

A   PANEL-THIEF. 

The  panel-thieving  business  is  almost  entirely  in  the 
hands  of  black  women.  They  carry  on  their  trade  so 
adroitly  that  it  is  difficult  to  discover  their  where- 
abouts, or  to  detect  them  at  their  business.  They 
make  frequent  complaints  against  the  police.  One 
of  them  appeared  before  the  commissioner  the  other 
clay  —  a  very  good-looking  and  intelligent  mulatto 
woman.  She  was  a  poor  washerwoman,  she  said,  and 
quietly  maintained  herself  and  family.  While  she  was 
washing,  one  day,  a  policeman  came  and  took  her  to 
the  station-house,  without  giving  her  time  to  lock  her 
doors.  The  policeman  afterwards  searched  her  house, 
and  carried  away  some  keys  which  a  gentleman  left 
there.  She  also  asserted  that  her  house  was  robbed  in 
consequence  of  the  doors  being  left  unlocked.  The 
evidence  showed  that  she  was  one  of  the  most  notori- 
ous panel-thieves  in  New  York.  The  "keys  which 
the  gentleman  left "  proved  to  be  keys  and  tools  of 


IN   NEW  YORK.  307 

burglars,  which  the  policeman  exhibited,  together  with 
the  locks  and  bolts  used  in  panel-thieving,  at  the  sight 
of  which  the  complainant  set  up  a  howl,  went  off  into 
a  nicely-arranged  hysteric  fit,  and  was  dragged  by  the 
inexorable  policeman  out  of  the  court-room,  to  recover 
at  her  leisure. 

For  neglect  of  duty,  breaches  of  discipline,  improper 
behavior,  insulting  or  discourteous  conduct,  all  rude- 
ness or  unnecessary  severity,  the  policemen  are 
promptly  arrested,  tried,  and  punished.  The  penalty 
varies  from  the  deduction  of  a  day's  pay  to  suspension 
or  dismissal.  So  far  as  the  court  is  concerned,  this  trial 
is  final.  There  is  no  appeal,  there  is  no  rehearing, 
there  is  no  review.  If  a  man  is  unjustly  cut  off,  he 
can  only  be  reinstated  by  being  readmitted,  as  if  he  had 
never  been  on  the  force.  The  commissioners  sustain 
the  men  in  an  honest  and  fearless  discharge  of  their 
duty,  even  though  sometimes  they  make  mistakes.  If 
they  arrest  a  man  wrongfully,  or  in  the  zealous  dis- 
charge of  duty  go  unintentionally  beyond  the  law,  the 
commissioners  step  in  and  shield  the  policeman,  taking 
the  blame  upon  themselves.  Every  encouragement  is 
held  out  to  the  men  to  become  efficient  members  of  the 
force.  Their  behavior,  their  dress,  their  attention  to 
orders,  sobriety  and  promptness  in  the  discharge  of 
duty,  surely  lead  to  promotion.  The  rigid  discipline 
of  the  force  after  a  time  ceases  to  be  an  annoyance. 
The  general  superintendent,  in  his  late  report,  in  speak- 
ing of  discipline,  says,  — 

"  It  produces  a  feeling  of  pride  when  allusion  is  made 
to  the  efficiency  of  the  force,  and  to  the  high  degree 
of  discipline  it  has  attained.  Officers  and  men  alike 


308  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

are  entitled  to  the  highest  commendation.  There 
seems  to  be  among  them  a  general  anxiety  to  excel  in 
personal  deportment,  neatness  of  attire,  and  proficiency 
in  military  acquirement.  The  fidelity  with  which  the 
various  duties  that  devolve  upon  them  are  performed 
entitles  the  members  of  the  force,. with  inconsiderable 
exceptions,  to  our  special  approbation." 


IN  NEW  YORK.  309 


XXXIV. 

GENERAL    CHARLES     STETSON    AND 
THE    ASTOR    HOUSE. 

ORIGIN  OF  THE  ASTOR  HOUSE.  —  NEW  YORK  AROUND  THE  ASTOR.  —  GENERAL 
STETSON  AND  THE  ASTOR.  —  THIRTY  YEARS  OF  HOTEL  LIFE,  —  MR.  JONES 
THE  BAGGAGE  MAN.  —  ROOM  NUMBER  ELEVEN  THURLOW  WEED'S  NEW 
YORK  HOME.  —  MR.  WEED'S  EARLY  CAREER.  —  SECRET  OF  HIS  POWER.  — 
HUMANE. — AN  INCIDENT.  — PERSONAL.  — MR.  WEBSTER  AT  THE  ASTOR 
HOUSE.  —  AN  INCIDENT.  —  MR.  WEBSTER'S  BIRTHDAY.  —  BALTIMORE  NOMI- 
NATION. —  MR.  WEBTSER  AND  GENERAL  TAYLOR. 

ORIGIN   OF   THE   ASTOR   HOUSE. 

THIS  celebrated  hotel  stands  on  the  site  where  its 
founder  lived  during  the  greater  part  of  his  active  busi- 
ness life.  In  the  year  1824  John  Jacob  Astor  surrendered 
his  house  to  his  son,  William  B.  John  G.  Costar  resided 
on  the  block,  and  his  house  formed  the  corner  of  Barclay 
Street  and  Broadway.  David  Suydam,  the  famous 
flour  merchant,  resided  on  the  block.  Michael  Paff,  who 
was  a  companion  of  Mr.  Astor  across  the  Atlantic,  kept 
his  celebrated  picture  gallery  on  the  corner  of  Yesey 
Street  and  Broadway.  The  resolution  to  build  a  hotel 
that  should  bear  his  name  Mr.  Astor  kept  a  secret.  He 
quietly  purchased  lot  after  lot  until  he  owned  the 
whole  block,  Mr.  Costar's  house  alone  excepted.  Mr. 
Costar  was  rich,  liked  the  location,  and  refused  to  sell. 


310  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Mr.  Astor  made  a  proposition  to  Mr.  Costar,  that  each 
should  name  a  friend,  the  two  should  choose  a  third,  and 
they  should  estimate  the  value  of  the  property.  To 
the  sum  named,  Mr.  Astor  agreed  to  add  twenty  thou- 
sand dollars.  This  proposition  was  acceded  to,  and  the 
land  became  Mr.  Astor's.  In  1836,  on  the  1st  of  June, 
the  Astor  House  was  thrown  open  to  the  public.  It 
was  then  in  the  extreme  upper  part  of  New  York.  It 
soon  became  the  most  famous  hotel  in  the  nation.  It 
has  always  been  the  centre  of  travel  and  trade.  The 
omnibuses  and  street  cars,  connecting  with  all  the 
ferries,  places  of  amusement,  and  railroads,  start  from 
the  Astor.  The  great  rotunda  is  high  'change  daily  for 
the  eminent  men  of  the  nation.  Political  societies, 
clubs,  benevolent  organizations,  and  great  corporations 
hold  their  meetings  at  this  hotel. 

NEW   YORK   AROUND    THE   ASTOR. 

When  this  hotel  was  opened,  in  1836,  all  New  York 
was  below  the  hotel.  Trinity  Church  was  the  centre 
of  the  city.  The  Fulton  Street  Dutch  Church  was  so 
far  up  town,  that  people  residing  in  lower  New  York 
could  not  reach  it  with  comfort.  Mr.  Astor  was  gen- 
erally censured  for  putting  his  hotel  so  far  away  from 
the  residences  of  the  people.  There  were  then  but 
two  hotels  above  the  Astor  —  the  American,  where 
Lafayette  was  entertained,  on  the  corner  above,  and 
the  Washington,  which  stood  where  A.  T.  Stewart's 
down-town  store  now  stands.  Any  one  who  looks,  will 
see  that  the  City  Hall  has  a  marble  front  and  a  free- 
stone rear.  No  one  supposed  the  city  would  ever 
reach  above  the  City  Hall,  and  the  economical  Dutch 


IN   NEW   YORK.  311 

saved  the  difference  between  brown  stone  and  marble. 
On  Barclay  Street  there  was  but  one  store,  and  that 
was  a  grocery,  that  stood  on  the  corner  opposite  St. 
Peter's  Church.  All  Park  Place,  and  from  the  Astor  to 
Chambers  Street,  and  from  Broadway  to  Greenwich, 
and  from  Barclay  to  Canal,  was  occupied  by  the  aris- 
tocracy, and  the  houses  were  occupied  by  the  rich  and 
well-to-do  merchants  of  the  city.  The  ultra  fashion- 
able dwelt  round  St.  John's  Park.  Trade,  starting  from 
the  Battery,  hugged  the  East  River  to  Chambers  Street. 
Pearl  Street  contained  the  stores  of  the  solid  merchants 
of  the  city.  Beekman  Street  was  the  limit  of  the  up- 
town dry-goods  trade.  The  city  above  Fourteenth 
Street  was  a  cornfield.  Straying  from  Canal  Street  up 
town,  the  houses  growing  more  and  more  scarce,  ended 
with  Union  Square.  It  was  then  no  square,  but  an 
enclosed  common.  It  was  beyond  the  lamp  district;  the 
old  leather-heads,  who  guarded  the  city,  never,  went 
beyond  the  lamps:  people  who  walked  in  that  dark 
locality  had  to  look  out  for  themselves.  Where  Cooper 
Institute  and  the  Bible  House  stand  there  was  a  com- 
mon, without  improvement ;  no  omnibuses  ran  in  the 
city,  and  there  were  no  street  cars.  The  Astor  House 
was  away  up  town,  and  there  was  no  place  to  go  to. 
The  churches,  hotels,  and  places  of  amusement  were 
down  town ;  a  single  railroad  track  was  laid  from 
Chatham  Square  to  Yorkville,  and  steam  was  used 
above  Fourteenth  Street.  The  great  avenues  in  the 
western  part  of  the  city  lie  in  the  region  then  known  as 
Chelsea.  This  was  as  much  in  the  country  as  the  Elysian 
Fields  now  are.  City  schools  took  a  holiday,  and  went 
to  Chelsea  to  take  the  air.  Trade  drove  the  Episcopal 


312  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Theological  Seminary  from  down  town :  a  farm  in  Chel- 
sea was  presented  to  the  institution  by  a  Mr.  Moore.  It 
was  so  far  into  the  country,  that  it  was  doubtful  whether 
any,  student  could  ever  find  it.  Bishop  Hobart  laid  the 
corner-stone  of  the  present  buildings.  He  congrat- 
ulated the  friends  of  sacred  learning  that  the  seminary 
was  beyond  the  reach  of  trade  for  a  century  at  least. 
It  is  now  far  down  town,  on  Twentieth  Street,  below  the 
Ninth  Avenue  :  business  has  overtaken  it  and  outrun  it 
It  sends  its  unwelcomed  din  within  the  rooms  of  the 
student.  It  has  swept  away  already  the  beautiful  park 
of  St.  John.  It  is  making  rapid  strides  towards  this 
college. 

GENERAL  STETSON  AND  THE  ASTOR. 

Thirty-six  years  ago  Mr.  Stetson  became  proprietor 
of  this  hotel.  He  was  then  a  young  man;  but  his 
promise  as  a  hotel-keeper  was  manifest,  and  his  ability 
had  reached  the  ears  of  Mr.  As  tor.  While  on  a  visit  to 
New  York,  Mr.  Stetson  took  a  fancy  to  the  Astor  House.. 
Things  did  not  work  smoothly  with  the  proprietors, 
and  the  owner  of  the  house  was  not  satisfied.  Mr. 
Stetson  received  a  note  one  day  from  Mr.  Astor,  re- 
questing him  to  call  upon  him.  Measuring  the  young 
man  from  foot  to  head  for  some  time,  the  old  merchant 
said,  "I  understand  you  want  to  do  some  business  with 
me,  young  man."  Mr.  Stetson  very  coolly  replied,  that 
he  understood  that  Mr.  Astor  wanted  to  transact  some 
business  with  him ;  that  his  confidential  clerk  had 
written  him  a  note,  asking  him  to  call,  but  if  Mr.  Astor 
had  no  business,  he  would  bid  him  good  morning,  as  he 
had  but  a  short  time  to  remain  in  the  city.  The  inde- 
pendence of  the  young  man  rather  pleased  the  old 


IN  NEW  YORK.  313 

merchant,  and  he  said,  "  Sit  down,  young  man ;  don't 
be  in  such  a  hurry.  What  are  you  going  to  do, 
young  man  ? "  "I  am  going  to  get  my  living,  and 
get  it  by  hotel  keeping."  "  And  you  think  you  can 
keep  my  hotel  —  do  you  ? "  "  Yes,"  said  the  young 
Napoleon,  "  I  can  keep  any  hotel  in  the  city.  I  will 
keep  a  hotel,  not  a  tavern."  "And  what  is  the  differ- 
ence between  a  tavern  and  a  hotel  ?  "  said  Mr.  Astor. 
"  Just  the  difference  between  what  your  hotel  is  and 
what  you  wish  it  to  be.  A  tavern  keeper  knows  how 
to  go  to  market,  and  how  to  feed  so  many  people  at  a 
public  table.  A  hotel  keeper  is  a  gentleman  who 
stands  on  a  level  with  his  guests."  The  young  man 
proved  to  be  one  after  Mr.  Astor's  own  heart.  He 
made  terms  with  him.  Mr.  Stetson  said  he  was  penni- 
less, with  nothing  but  his  honor,  and  he  wanted  Mr. 
Astor  to  furnish  him  with  funds  sufficient  to  buy  out 
the  proprietors,  and  put  the  hotel  in  complete  running 
order.  "  And  how  much  money  will  you  want  ?  "  said 
the  old  man.  "  I  may  not  want  more  than  one  'thou- 
sand dollars,  I  may  want  twenty ;  but  I  will  not  take 
the  house  unless  I  can  draw  on  you  for  fifty  thousand 
dollars  if  I  need  it.  I  will  buy  the  lease  if  it  costs  me 
twenty  thousand  dollars,  and  put  the  house  in  perfect 
order  if  it  costs  me  twenty  thousand  more."  "  Fifty 
thousand  dollars  is  a  great  deal  of  money,"  said  Mr. 
Astor,  "and  I  have  no  security."  "  Yes, you  have  ;  you 
have  my  honor,  and  the  promise  that  I  will  keep 
what  you  want  —  a  first-class  hotel."  The  rigid  terms 
were  acceded  to.  Thirty  years  ago,  at  two  o'clock,  on 
the  12th  of  July,  the  papers  were  passed,  and  Mr. 
Stetson  became  the  proprietor  of  the  Astor  House. 


314  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


THIRTY   YEARS    OP   HOTEL   LIFE. 

Mr.  Stetson  is  still  connected  with  the  Astor.  He 
can  be  seen  daily  in  the  corridors  of  the  hotel,  in  the 
ripeness  of  mature  life,  welcoming,  with  a  manly,  hearty 
frankness,  his  friends  beneath  his  roof.  He  has  never 
sunk  the  man  in  his  business.  He  has  been  the  bosom 
companion  and  friend  of  the  most  eminent  men  of  the 
land ;  intelligent,  large-hearted,  and  well  informed,  and 
is  a  genial  companion.  The  Astor  has  been  the  home 
of  all  the  eminent  men  of  America.  Mr.  Stetson  has 
more  of  the  unwritten  history  of  the  country  in  his 
possession  than  any  other  man,  and  he  knows  more  of 
the  private  history  of  the  leading  men  of  the  country 
than  any  other  person.  His  liberality  and  generosity 
are  unbounded.  His  gifts  to  the  poor  have  been  con- 
stant and  large.  During  the  war  he  kept  open  house 
to  officers  and  men,  and  gave  the  stewards  of  the 
hospitals  the  free  run  of  his  kitchen.  His  honor  is  un- 
tarnished, and  his  reputation  without  a  stain.  When 
cruelly  wronged  by  others,  and  the  earnings  of  his  life 
were  swept  away  by  the  fraud  of  associates,  no  one 
doubted  his  integrity.  The  owner  of  the  Astor  House 
came  to  him,  and  said,  "Mr.  Stetson,  your  load  is  too 
heavy ;  pay  us  no  rent  till  we  call  for  it,  and  give  your- 
self no  trouble  about  it."  And  they  bore  the  load  till 
Mr.  Stetson  could  carry  it.  Great  commercial  convul- 
sions roar  past  the  dwellings  of  hotel  keepers  as  well 
as  others,  in  disastrous  times  which  make  the  stoutest 
merchants  stagger.  The  same  proprietors,  though  they 
could  have  entered  advantageously  to  themselves,  and 
taken  possession,  yet  came  forward  and  made  a  liberal 


IN  NEW  YORK.  315 

arrangement  with  a  company  by  which  the  profits  of 
the  lease  could  be  restored  to  Mr.  Stetson  and  his 
family.  Mr.  Stetson's  mantle  seems  to  have  fallen  on 
his  sons.  The  elder  keeps  the  hotel  in  Central  Park. 
He  must  have  character  and  skill,  or  the  commissioners 
would  not  have  intrusted  that  important  house  to  his 
keeping.  When  the  splendid  hotel  at  Long  Branch 
was  reared,  no  name  was  considered  more  fitting  for  it 
to  bear  than  that  of  Stetson.  It  has  been  kept  with 
great  success  for  two  seasons  by  Charles,  Jr.,  in  connec- 
tion with  his  uncle  James.  The  younger  son  made  a 
brilliant  record  in  the  war,  and  by  his  personal  heroism 
more  than  once  saved  the  fortune  of  the  day.  And 
though  only  a  captain,  he  has  led  a  brigade  to  battle. 
He  has  now  taken  the  Astor  House,  and  has  full  charge 
of  its  immense  business. 

MR.    JONES,    THE    BAGGAGE-MASTER. 

On  entering  the  hotel,  a  quiet  gentleman  was  for 
many  years  seen  sitting  near  the  baggage.  He  s&t 
there  more  than  thirty  years.  He  is  about  sixty  years 
of  age.  He  has  a  quick  ear,  a  sharp  eye,  and  a  ready 
step.  He  came  to  the  hotel  before  Mr.  Stetson.  This 
gentleman  was  Mr.  Jones,  the  baggage-master.  He 
had  charge  of  all  luggage  that  came  or  went.  Every- 
thing was  under  his  direction.  Give  Mr.  Jones  the 
key  of  your  room,  your  checks,  or  your  order,  and 
you  could  eat  your  meals  in  quietness.  No  trunk  got 
on  the  wrong  coach,  no  bundles  were  left  behind,  if 
Mr.  Jones  had  charge.  He  handled  the  trunks  of 
nearly  all  the  great  men  of  the  nation.  Belles  and 
dames  of  distinction  in  the  New  World  and  in  the  Old 


316  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

knew  him.  He  saw  millionnaires  reduced  to  penury, 
merchant  princes  fail,  and  the  proud  ones  become 
lowly.  He  had  no  salary  during  the  long  term  of 
thirty  years.  All  his  pay  was  from  the  voluntary  con- 
tributions of  the  house.  At  the  close  of  the  day's 
duties,  Mr.  Jones  changed  his  attire,  put  on  a  fashion- 
able overcoat,  and  with  cane  in  hand  set  out  for  his 
brown-stone  house  in  upper  New  York.  He  lived  near 
Fifth  Avenue.  His  house  was  elegantly  furnished,  and 
he  lived  in  fine  style.  Mr.  Jones  picked  up  and  saved, 
by  carrying  trunks  up  and  down  the  hotel  stairs,  the 
snug  sum  of  seventy-five  to  one  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  His  relatives,  connected  with  the  old  Astor, 
had  a  fine  start,  and  some  of  them  have  made  for- 
tunes. To  see  Mr.  Jones  in  the  cars,  in  his  spruce  array 
and  blithe  manner,  one  wrould  take  him  to  be  a  well- 
to-do  down-town  merchant. 

While  I  write,  the  remains  of  Mr.  Jones  are  being 
carried  to  their  long  home.  He  reached  the  full  age 
of  seventy  years.  He  was  always  at  his  post ;  courte- 
ous, attentive,  prompt,  faithful,  he  discharged  his  duties 
with  acceptance.  He  could  answer  any  question  about 
routes,  teams,  and  trains  that  any  one  could  ask.  He 
was  honest  and  trustful,  and  a  gentleman  of  the  old 
school.  He  was  intimate  with  the  prominent  men  of 
two  generations.  Yan  Buren  knew  him.  He  called 
up  the  trunks  of  Taylor  and  Buchanan.  Pierce  and 
Lincoln  treated  him  with  respect.  He  was  a  man  after 
Mr.  Webster's  own  heart.  General  Grant  confided  in 
him,  and  he  could  claim  Admiral  Farragut  as  his  friend. 
Beloved,  respected,  and  honored  by  all,  he  passed  away 
in  a  moment,  in  the  ripeness  of  age,  and  amid  the 
general  sorrow  of  his  friends. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  317 


ROOM   NUMBER   ELEVEN   THURLOW    WEED'S    NEW   YORK    HOME. 

One  of  the  most  famous  rooms  in  the  Astor  is  No.  11. 
It  is  on  the  parlor  floor,  near  the  ladies'  entrance.  It 
consists  of  one  room  and  a  small  ante-room.  Save  the 
President's  room  at  the  White  House,  no  room  in 
America  has  had  a  greater  influence  on  the  political 
destinies  than  room  No.  11.  This  is  the  room  occupied 
by  Thurlow  Weed.  He  has  occupied  it  for  a  term  of 
years.  Men  of  mark  in  the  nation  and  in  the  world, 
cabinet  officers  and  foreign  ministers,  eminent  civilians, 
governors  of  states  and  territories,  with  members  of 
Congress,  when  in  New  York  find  their  way  to  No.  11. 
In  that  little  room  Presidents  have  been  made  and 
destroyed,  foreign  embassies  arranged,  the  patronage 
of  the  nation  and  state  distributed,  and  the  "  slates  " 
of  ambitious  and  scheming  politicians  smashed.  Mr. 
Weed  has  long  been  the  Warwick  in  politics.  He  is 
eminently  practical,  keen,  and  far-sighted.  He  looks 
for  success,  and  when  his  party  follows  his  lead  it 
generally  triumphs.  Without  office,  emolument,  or 
political  gifts  to  bestow  on  his  friends,  he  has  more 
influence  with  the  politicians  of  the  land  than  any  man 
in  America.  He  has  great  gifts  as  a  writer.  His  short, 
sharp,  telling  articles,  signed  T.  W.,  attract  universal 
attention. 

He  is  a  marked  man  about  the  Astor.  He  never 
walks  through  the  corridors  but  he  attracts  attention, 
and  the  universal  inquiry  is,  Who  is  that  gentleman  ? 
He  walks  generally  alone,  with  a  soft,  cat-like  tread, 
his  head  inclined  on  one  side,  and  as  if  in  great  haste. 
His  tone  of  conversation  is  low,  like  one  trained  to 


318  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

caution  in  his  utterances,  lest  he  should  be  overheard. 
He  is  tall,  with  a  slight  stoop.  He  carries  an  air  of 
benevolence  in  his  face,  and  looks  like  a  man  of  letters, 
and  would  easily  be  mistaken  for  a  professor,  or  a 
doctor  of  divinity.  His  modesty  and  activity  are 
marvellous.  He  is  seldom  at  rest,  but  comes  and  goes 
like  one  driven  by  an  impulse  that  is  irresistible.  He 
takes  the  evening  train,  and  is  back  to  business  the 
next  morning.  He  walks  into  the  dining-room,  and 
before  you  can  say,  "  There  is  Thurlow  Weed,"  he  has 
eaten  and  gone.  While  he  sits  at  his  breakfast  at  the 
Astor,  he  reads  the  telegraph  that  announces  his  arrival 
in  Albany.  A  message  comes  to  him  in  cipher.  He 
takes  the  midnight  train  for  Washington,  and  before 
the  press  can  announce  his  arrival,  he  is  back  to  his  old 
quarters. 

MR.  WEED'S  EARLY  CAREER. 

He  took  to  the  daily  press  as  some  boys  take  to  the 
sea.  He  has  great  tact  in  editing  a  paper,  and  is  one 
of  the  best  letter  writers  in  the  land.  He  has  travelled 
much,  and  his  correspondence  from  foreign  lands,  and 
from  different  parts  of  our  own  country,  is  a  model 
of  terseness,  raciness,  and  spirit.  He  appeared  to  the 
public  as  an  editor  in  Rochester.  He  bought  out  a 
half  interest  in  a  small  paper.  The  Anti-masonic  excite- 
ment was  then  raging.  He  admitted  an  article  into  his 
weekly,  denouncing  the  arrest  and  death  of  Morgan. 
He  wrote  an  editorial  on  the  same  subject.  The  pub- 
lication of  these  articles  brought  a  storm  of  indignation 
upon  him  that  sunk  his  little  craft.  Mr.  Weed  thought 
it  not  fair  that  his  partner  should  suffer.  He  bought 
out  his  interest,  moved  the  concern  to  Albany,  and  set 


IN  NEW  YORK.  319 

up  an  independent  paper.  He  formed  an  intimate  con- 
nection with  Governor  William  H.  Seward,  now  Secre- 
tary of  State.  The  two  constituted  a  mighty  power  in 
the  political  world,  which  continued  for  over  thirty  years, 
controlling  the  destiny  of  the  state,  and  dividing  its 
patronage.  It  was  the  general  impression  that  Mr. 
Weed  earned  the  laurels  and  Mr.  Seward  wore  them. 
Mr.  Seward  is  very  fond  of  his  cigar.  In  old  stage 
times  he  generally  rode  with  the  driver,  that  he  might 
enjoy  his  favorite  Havana.  While  riding  one  day,  the 
driver  eyed  the  quiet,  silent  gentleman  for  some  time, 
and  thought  he  would  find  out  who  he  was.  Address- 
ing himself  to  Mr.  Seward,  he  said,  "  Captain,  what  are 
you  ?  "  "  Guess,"  was  the  reply.  "  A  farmer  ?  "  "  No." 
"A  merchant?"  "No."  "A  minister?"  "No."  "Well, 
what  then?"  "Governor."  "Governor  of  what?" 
"  Of  this  state."  "  I  guess  not."  "Inquire  at  the  next 
tavern."  Driving  up,  Mr.  Seward  asked  the  proprietor, 
"  Do  you  know  me  ?  "  "  Yes !  "  "  What  is  my  name  ?  " 
"  SEWAIID."  "  Am  I  Governor  of  New  York  ? "  "  No, 
by  thunder!  THURLOW  WEED  is." 

SECRET    OF   HIS   POWER. 

Mr.  Weed  has  held  long  political  rule.  He  has  talent, 
tact,  industry,  and  shrewdness ;  more  than  all.  he  has 
heart.  To  all  dependents,  however  humble,  he  is  con- 
siderate. There  is  not  a  boy  or  man  on  the  great  lines 
from  New  York  to  the  lakes  who  does  not  know  and 
love  him.  A  conductor  said,  "  Mr.  Weed  could  send  a 
glass  vase  to  Galena  by  the  boys,  and  not  have  it 
broken."  He  pays  liberally  for  all  favors,  and  has  a 
peculiar  way  of  attaching  persons  to  himself.  To  the 


320  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

lowly,  indigent,  and  unfortunate  he  is  a  tender  friend. 
His  private  life  is  crowded  with  deeds  of  kindness,  and 
a  thousand  eyes  moisten  at  the  mention  of  his  name. 
At  any  inconvenience  or  cost  he  will  serve  those  to 
whom  he  is  attached.  When  he  resided  in  Albany,  he 
has  been  known  to  wait  hours  at  night  for  a  delayed 
train,  to  meet  one  who  had  asked  to  see  him. 

AN   INCIDENT. 

In  the  days  of  his  great  political  power  he  would  not 
always  admit  distinguished  men  into  his  presence,  but 
the  lowly  could  always  gain  his  ear.  One  day,  being 
greatly  pressed  with  business,  he  gave  orders  that  no 
one  should  be  admitted.  A  senator  called.  Mr.  Weed 
named  the  hour  that  he  would  see  him.  The  governor 
called,  and  a  similar  appointment  was  made.  A  heavy 
knock  brought  Mr.  Weed  to  his  feet.  A  colored  man, 
trembling  like  a  pursued  fawn,  asked  to  see  him.  Mr. 
Weed  knew  him,  had  befriended  him  before,  and  knew 
that  nothing  but  stern  necessity  brought  him  from 
home.  In  his  tenderest  tones,  Mr.  Weed  bade  him 
come  in.  He  pushed  aside  his  papers,  and  heard  his 
story,  gave  him  money,  and  aided  him  in  his  flight. 
He  had  no  time  for  a  senator  or  a  governor,  but  he  had 
time,  counsel,  and  money  for  a  fugitive  negro.  And  this 
is  but  a  type  of  Mr.  Weed's  private  life. 

PERSONAL. 

Mr.  Weed  is  very  fascinating  and  genial  as  a  com- 
panion. As  successful  orators  put  themselves  in  sym- 
pathy with  their  audience,  Mr.  Weed  has  the  ability  of 
completely  captivating  those  with  whom  he  converses. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  321 

There  is  an  air  of  frank  benignity  in  his  manner,  a  ten- 
derness in  his  tone,  and  he  seems  so  sincere  in  his  efforts 
to  please,  that  one  is  captivated  with  his  society.  He 
is  one  of  the  best  talkers  in  the  country.  For  more 
than  fifty  years  he  has  been  the  intimate  companion  of 
our  eminent  public  men.  He  has  a  mass  of  informa- 
tion, anecdote,  incident,  and  story  about  earlier  days, 
that  is  interesting  and  fascinating.  It  is  his  purpose 
to  write  the  history  of  men  and  things  as  he  has  known 
them  for  half  a  century.  His  correspondence  with 
public  men,  at  home  -and  abroad,  has  been  immense. 
His  daughter  Harriet,  since  the  death  of  her  mother, 
has  been  bound  up  in  her  father.  His  wishes,  neces- 
sities, and  comfort  have  been  her  constant  study. 
Many  years  ago,  unbeknown  to  her  father,  she  gath- 
ered, assorted,  and  indexed  all  his  letters  and  papers, 
with  every  sort  of  memorandum.  Since  she  commenced 
the  work,  each  day  she  has  carefully  gathered  every 
note  and  letter.  Every  piece  is  labelled  and  numbered, 
and  carefully  entered,  by  index,  in  a  book,  so  that  Mr. 
Weed  can  call  for  any  letter,  or  paper,  or  memorandum, 
as  far  back  as  the  time  of  Jackson,  and  have  it  pro- 
duced as  readily  as  any  bank  can  present  to  a  customer 
his  account.  Such  a  mass  of  private  history,  embracing 
a  period  so  full  of  startling  events;  such  political 
revelations;  such  letters  from  politicians  and  public 
men,  so  racy,  so  sensational  ,and  telling,  does  not 
exist  in  this  country  anywhere  outside  of  the  strong 
box  under  the  key  of  Miss  Harriet  Weed.  To  bring 
out  the  treasures  of  this  chest  will  constitute  the  closing 
life-work  of  Thurlow  Weed.  While  abroad  he  was 
received  everywhere  with  honors  accorded  usually 
21 


322  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

only  to  the  highest  stations.  Mr.  "Weed  will  occupy 
room  No.  11  at  the  Astor  House  while  he  lives. 
The  friendship  between  himself  and  General  Stet- 
son, the  host  of  the  Astor,  has  been  strong,  perma- 
nent, and  unbroken  for  thirty  years.  It  is  the  inten- 
tion of  the  host  of  the  Astor,  that  when  Mr.  Weed  shall 
be  borne  to  that  house  appointed  for  all  living,  his  old 
quarters  at  the  Astor  shall  be  dismantled,  to  be  oc- 
cupied by  no  one  after  him. 

MR.    WEBSTER   AT   THE   ASTOR   HOUSE. 

For  many  years  the  Astor  House  was  the  New  York 
home  of  the  great  statesman.  The  famed  Webster 
Rooms  adjoin  those  occupied  by  Mr.  Weed,  and  were 
numbered  twelve  and  thirteen.  A  bed-room,  a  parlor, 
and  dining-room  composed  the  suite.  Come  when  Mr. 
Webster  would,  by  night  or  day,  these  rooms  awaited 
him.  All  who  occupied  them  in  his  absence  took  them 
on  the  condition  that  they  must  be  vacated  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice.  On  the  death  of  Mr.  Webster,  the  parti- 
tions that  divided  the  apartments  were  torn  down,  that 
they  might  never  be  used  again  by  any  guests.  They 
now  make  the  private  breakfast  room  on  the  ladies' 
side  of  the  house.  Mr.  Webster  and  General  Stetson 
were  bosom  friends,  arid  that  friendship  was  severed 
only  by  death.  Some  of  Mr.  Webster's  happiest  hours 
were  passed  in  his  rooms  at  the  Astor.  The  cheery 
voice  of  the  liberal  host  always  welcomed  him  as  he 
crossed  the  threshold,  and  was  music  to  his  ear.  Mr. 
Webster  went  from  these  rooms  to  Marshfield,  where 
he  was  to  lay  himself  down,  to  rise  not  till  the  heavens 
are  no  more.  Worn  and  weary,  Mr.  Webster  dropped  a 


IN  NEW  YORK.  323 

word  at  that  last  visit  which  showed  that,  in  his  judg- 
ment, he  was  going  home  to  die.  He  took  an  affec- 
tionate leave  of  his  friend,  whom  he  had  known  and 
loved  for  more  than  thirty  years.  He  presented  him 
with  a  complete  set  of  his  works,  accompanied  by  a 
letter  written  in  his  best  vein,  which  will  be  an  heir- 
loom in  the  family.  On  his  death-bed  at  Marshfield 
he  wrote  the  last  letter  that  he  ever  penned,  fall  of 
love  and  affection,  to  his  life-long  friend,  the  host  of  the 
Astor, 

Few  persons  knew  Mr.  Webster  better.  He  knew 
him  as  he  appeared  to  the  public  —  an  orator  pouring 
out  the  nervous  tide  of  eloquence  ;  an  advocate  at  the 
bar,  carrying  court  and  jury,  willing  or  reluctant,  along 
with  him ;  the  farmer  at  Marshfield,  familiar  with  cat- 
tle and  crops,  dressed  in  his  short  jacket,  long  pants, 
heavy  brogans,  and  wide-brimmed,  bad-looking  hat ;  a 
boatman  and  fisherman,  hunting  his  favorite  game  in 
Marshfield  Bay ;  as  a  companion,  social,  fervent,  and 
warm  in  friendship ;  and  he  knew  well  how  strong  was 
his  faith  in  the  God  of  his  fathers. 

AN   INCIDENT. 

At  Marshfield  Mr.  Webster  was  at  one  time  engaged 
in  conversation  with  a  friend.  The  clock  struck  nine. 
Mr.  Webster  arose  and  left  the  room.  He  did  not 
return  for  an  hour,  and  some  allusion  was  made  to  his 
absence.  Mrs.  Webster  remarked  that  her  husband 
had  gone  to  bed  ;  that  nine  o'clock  was  his  summer  hour 
for  retiring  while  on  the  farm ;  his  guests  and  family 
consulted  their  own  convenience.  At  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning  the  guest  heard  Mr.  Webster  calling  for 


324  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

shaving-water.  Shortly  after  he  left  the  house.  A 
plain  office,  one  story  high,  built  of  wood  and  painted 
white,  still  stands  in  the  grove  of  Marshfield,  now  silent 
and  deserted,  and  this  was  the  working-room  of  Mr. 
Webster  during  his  public  life.  Entering  this  office 
early  in  the  morning,  and  closing  the  door,  he  ad- 
dressed himself  to  his  business,  and  finished  the  labor 
of  the  day  before  breakfast.  On  arising  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  visitors  proposed  to  make  Mr.  Webster  a  morn- 
ing visit  at  his  office.  Mrs.  Webster  said,  "  Gentlemen, 
that  office  and  this  hour  are  sacred  to  labor.  Mr. 
Webster  gives  to  his  guests  all  the  time  he  can  spare 
from  his  public  duties.  I  never  call  upon  him  in  his 
office  hours,  and  he  will  not  be  pleased  if  you  disturb 
him.  When  his  labor  is  finished  he  will  appear."  The 
guests  had  not  long  to  wait.  Soon  the  host  appeared. 
He  bade  them  a  hearty  good  morning,  and  proceeded 
to  the  breakfast  table,  and  from  thence  to  the  pleasures 
of  the  day.  Going  to  bed  at  nine  o'clock,  and  rising 
daily  at  three,  was  his  home  custom.  No  wonder  he 
could  write  his  brilliant  letter  on  the  glory  of  the 
morning ! 

WEBSTER'S  BIRTHDAY. 

For  many  years  it  was  a  custom  to  celebrate,  by  a 
dinner  at  the  Astor,  the  birthday  of  Mr.  Webster.  This 
custom  was  continued  for  several  years  after  his  death. 
The  dinner  was  attended  by  the  most  eminent  New 
England  men  residing  in  New  York,  and  the  personal 
friends  of  Mr.  Webster  living  in  the  state.  At  one  of 
these  gatherings,  at  which  I  was  present,  personal 
reminiscences  were  told  of  the  great  statesman.  Many 
incidents  of  his  inside  life  came  out,  which  have  a 


IN  NEW   YORK.  325 

permanent  value.  He  made  a  profession  of  religion 
when  he  was  a  young  man,  and  his  name  remains  on 
the  records  of  the  Congregational  Church  at  Boscawen, 
N.  H.  In  the  plain  wooden  church  at  Marshfield  his 
pew  is  still  shown,  where  in  foul  weather  as  in  fair, 
with  the  distinguished  guests,  foreign  and  native,  who 
were  at  his  house,  he  sat  and  worshipped  the  God  of 
his  fathers.  He  said  to  Dr.  Codman,  whose  church  he 
attended,  "  I  am  no  half-a-day  hearer,  sir."  He  liked 
the  simple  preaching  of  the  gospel,  and  detested  all 
pomp  and  pretence  in  the  pulpit.  He  was  accustomed 
to  ask  a  blessing  at  his  table  daily,  unless  he  had  politi- 
cal guests,  when  it  was  omitted,  lest  it  should  be  placed 
to  the  account  of  ostentation.  One  eminent  man  at 
the  dinner  said  that  he  had  known  Mr.  Webster  inti- 
mately for  thirty  years,  socially  and  convivially  ;  at  his 
own  house,  and  on  political  campaigns ;  had  been  his 
guest  at  the  Marshfield  farm,  and  at  the  capital ;  during 
that  long  time  he  never  heard  him  utter  an  improper 
word,  use  an  oath,  or  allow  one  to  be  used  in  his 
presence  without  a  decided  but  gentlemanly  rebuke. 

One  gentleman  related  this  anecdote :  Mr.  Webster 
was  a  great  lover  of  fine  cattle,  and  was  a  much  better 
judge  of  stock  than  his  friends  at  that  time  imagined. 
Mr.  Webster  was  on  a  visit  to  this  gentleman  at  his 
farm  in  Massachusetts.  He  had  some  valuable  imported 
stock,  in  which  he  took  great  pride.  He  proposed  to 
make  Mr.  Webster  a  present  of  one  of  his  cows.  In  the 
exuberance  of  his  generosity,  he  told  Mr.  Webster  he 
might  have  his  choice  out  of  his  lot.  Mr.  Webster  re- 
quested that  the  cattle  be  driven  into  the  yard.  He 
walked  leisurely  down,  and  leaning  his  back  against 


326  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  fence,  saying  nothing,  he  surveyed  the  stock  before 
him.  Not  a  point  escaped  his  eye,  not  a  mark  was 
unnoticed.  Having  satisfied  himself  by  an  outside 
survey,  he  turned  to  his  host,  and  said,  "  Bring  me  a 
pail."  Selecting  three  choice  specimens,  he  formed  his 
decision,  and  said,  "  I  will  take  this  one."  His  friend 
saw  with  dismay  that  Mr.  Webster,  with  the  eye  of  a 
master,  had  selected  the  most  valuable  cow  of  the  lot, 
and  she  was  soon  on  her  way  to  Marshfield. 

BALTIMORE   NOMINATION. 

Before  General  Scott  received  the  nomination  of  the 
Whig  party  for  President,  Mr.  Webster  had  put  him- 
self forward  as  the  champion  of  the  rights  of  the  south, 
and  had  gone  as  far  in  that  direction  as  the  northern 
heart  could  allow.  He  expected  a  generous  vote  from 
the  south  at  the  convention,  whether  it  carried  his 
nomination  or  not.  The  delegates  from  Massachusetts 
were  Webster  delegates,  and  gloried  in  the  name  of 
Webster  Whigs.  Mr.  Choate  headed  the  delegation, 
and  made  impassioned  appeals  for  the  nomination  of 
his  friend.  From  the  start  the  nomination  of  General 
Scott  was  fixed,  and  the  southern  members  did  not  care 
to  recognize  Mr.  Webster's  services  on  their  behalf, 
which  had  alienated  so  large  a  portion  of  Mr.  Webster's 
northern  friends.  They  refused  him  the  compliment 
of  a  full  vote  on  any  question,  though  it  would  not 
have  jeopardized  the  nomination  of  their  favorite  can- 
didate. Mr.  Webster  felt  this  neglect,  and  took  no 
pains  to  conceal  his  mortification.  He  saw,  with 
chagrin,  his  meagre  vote  from  first  to  last,  and  felt  in- 
dignant that  the  southern  delegates  voted  in  a  body 


IN   NEW  YORK.  327 

steadily  against  him.  Having  finished  the  nomination 
of  General  Scott,  the  southern  delegation  resolved  to 
take  the  cars,  visit  Mr.  Webster,  and  explain  to  him  the 
reasons  which  dictated  their  conduct.  They  telegraphed 
to  him  that  they  were  coming.  They  reached  his 
rooms  about  midnight,  and  found  him  in  bed.  He  re- 
fused to  arise,  and  refused  to  receive  them.  Personal 
friends  interceded,  and  the  southern  gentlemen  entered 
his  parlor  to  await  his  corning.  He  soon  made  his 
appearance.  He  wore  his  dressing-gown,  pants,  and 
slippers.  Ills  drawers  were  untied,  and  the  strings 
hung  loosely  about  his  ancles.  He  wore  neither  stock 
nor  collar.  He  had  arisen  from  his  bed  at  their  sum- 
mons, and  it  was  evident  that  he  had  not  removed  his 
night-shirt.  He  gave  the  delegation  a  chilling  welcome, 
made  his  coldest  bow,  and  wore  his  blackest  look.  The 
conference  was  opened  by  the  chairman,  who,  in  a 
speech  complimentary  to  Mr.  Webster's  great  abilities, 
and  his  signal  services  to  the  south,  began  to  apologize 
for  the  action  of  the  delegation  at  Baltimore.  Mr. 
Webster  cut  the  speaker  short,  by  stating  that  he 
desired  to  hear  no  vindication  of  their  conduct ;  that 
what  they  had  done  was  past  recall ;  if  they  had  done 
their  duty,  they  had  nothing  to  regret ;  if  not,  their 
consciences  must  be  their  accusers.  He  told  them  he 
was  mortified  and  indignant  at  their  persistent  refusal 
to  give  him  the  poor  compliment  of  a  vote.  He  re- 
minded them  of  his  labors  and  sacrifices  on  their  behalf, 
the  letters  he  had  written,  and  the  speeches  he  had 
made.  He  recalled  the  indignation  of  his  own  party, 
and  the  loss  of  long-tried  friendships  he  had  suffered 
from  his  public  course  in  behalf  of  the  south ;  he  told 


328  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

them  they  had  been  ungrateful,  and  were  unworthy  of 
the  sacrifices  made  for  them;  that  they  had  sown 
dragons*  teeth,  and  a  harvest  of  armed  men  would  come 
up.  He  reminded  the  delegation  that  they  had  used 
and  deserted  every  northern  man  who  had  stood  their 
friend  in  dark  and  perilous  days,  and  that  he  was  the 
last  man  they  would  sacrifice,  and  the  last  they  would 
desert.  He  said  to  them,  "  Gentlemen,  my  public  life 
has  ended.  I  am  going  to  Marshfield  to  sleep  with  my 
fathers.  I  carry  with  me  a  consciousness  of  duty  well 
done.  When  perilous  times  come  to  you,  as  come  they 
will,  you  will  mourn,  in  bitterness  of  spirit,  over  your 
craven  conduct  and  your  base  ingratitude.  I  wish 
you  good  evening,  gentlemen,"  and  the  great  states- 
man passed  out,  leaving  the  delegation  to  their  own 
meditations. 

MR.    WEBSTER   AND    GENERAL    TAYLOR. 

On  the  receipt  of  the  nomination  of  General  Taylor 
by  the  Whig  party,  Mr.  Webster  made  a  speech  at 
Marshfield,  in  which  he  denounced  the  nomination  as 
one  "  not  fit  to  be  made/'  Yet  Mr.  Webster  was  the 
original  Taylor  man  of  the  country.  He  saw  his 
merits  as  a  candidate  long  before  the  public  or  politi- 
cians recognized  him.  A  stirring  article  appeared  in 
the  National  Intelligencer,  presenting  the  claims  of 
General  Taylor  to  the  Presidency,  vindicating  him 
from  charges  preferred  against  him,  and  denouncing 
the  administration  for  their  treatment  of  the  great 
soldier  in  his  Mexican  campaign.  When  General 
Taylor  came  prominently  before  the  public,  and  it  was 
doubtful  whether  the  Whigs  or  the  Democrats  would 


IN  NEW   YORK.  329 

nominate  him,  Mr.  Webster  gathered  up  his  writings 
on  General  Taylor,  with  the  early  article  that  appeared 
in  the  Intelligencer,  and  sent  them,  with  a  letter,  to  a 
distinguished  Senator  in  the  South,  who  was  supposed 
to  be  in  the  confidence  of  General  Taylor,  his  personal 
friend  and  adviser.  This  original  letter  I  have  seen, 
and  a  copy  of  it  I  possess.  In  it  Mr.  Webster  urges 
the  nomination  of  General  Taylor,  giving  reasons 
therefor ;  yields  whatever  claims  he  might  possess  in 
favor  of  the  great  soldier ;  requests  his  friends  to  pro- 
ceed prudently  in  the  matter,  making  no  "sudden 
pledge  or  plunge,"  and  asks  the  senator  to  make  Gen- 
eral Taylor  acquainted  with  Mr.  Webster's  services  on 
his  behalf.  To  this  letter  no  reply  was  made,  neither 
was  there  any  recognition  of  Mr.  Webster's  services  on 
behalf  of  the  general.  He  had  taken  early  steps  to 
create  a  public  sentiment  in  his  favor.  General  Taylor 
was  almost  unknown  to  the  American  people.  But 
none  of  these  eminent  services  received  the  least  at- 
tention or  acknowledgment.  General  Taylor  was 
nominated,  elected,  and  inaugurated.  Mr.  Webster 
looked  coldly  and  silently  on.  About  six  weeks  before 
General  Taylor  died  the  facts  in  the  case  came  out. 
Mr.  Webster's  letter  was  mislaid.  Indeed,  it  was  not 
opened  till  after  the  death  of  the  senator  to  whom  it 
was  addressed.  General  Taylor  was  made  aware  of  the 
fact  that  Mr.  Webster  was  his  early  friend  and  advo- 
cate, and  had  yielded  all  his  personal  feelings  and  aspi- 
rations in*  connection  with  the  Presidency,  and  had 
smoothed  the  path  of  the  successful  candidate  to  the 
chair  of  state.  On  learning  these  facts,  General  Taylor 
took  his  carriage  and  drove  immediately  to  the  resi- 


330  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

dence  of  Mr.  Webster,  made  his  acknowledgments,  and 
effected  a  reconciliation.  Had  General  Taylor  lived  a 
month  longer,  Mr.  Webster  would  have  been  Secretary 
of  State. 

Mr.  Webster,  at  the  close  of  his  life,  expressed  his  re- 
gret that  when  he  moved  from  Portsmouth  he  had  not 
selected  New  York  instead  of  Boston  as  his  home.  His 
wife,  who  survived  him,  lived  with  her  father,  before 
her  marriage,  in  lower  New  York,  which  was  also  for 
many  years  Mr.  Webster's  town  residence.  The  build- 
ing, scarcely  changed,  stands  near  Bowling  Green,  its 
entrance  guarded  by  two  huge  granite  lions.  It  was 
the  centre,  at  one  time,  of  fashion,  and  the  home  of  the 
eminent  men  of  New  York. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  331 


XXXV. 
LEONARD    W.    JEROME. 

DARING  speculation  and  success  in  bold  operations 
have  placed  Mr.  Jerome  among  the  wealthy  citizens  of 
upper  New  York.  He  can  be  seen  any  pleasant  Sun- 
day morning,  when  the  streets  are  crowded  with  church- 
goers, driving  his  four-in-hand  up  Fifth  Avenue,  bound 
for  the  Central  Park.  His  carriage,  a  huge  omnibus, 
will  be  filled  with  gay  ladies,  in  opera  costume  ;  t\vo 
lackeys  in  livery  fill  the  coupe  behind,  while  the  driver, 
with  a  cluster  of  flowers  in  his  button-hole,  attracts 
general  attention,  as  the  multitude  cry  out,  "  That's 
Jerome." 


332  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


XXXVI. 

REV.     DR.    E.    H.    CHAPIN. 

IN  NEW  YORK. — AS  A  PREACHER. — IN  THE  PULPIT. — PERSONAL. 

IN   NEW    YORK. 

DR.  CHAPIN  is  the  leading  Universalist  preacher  in 
the  state.  He  has  been  a  settled  pastor  in  New  York 
for  several  years.  He  was  settled  in  Richmond,  Va., 
and  Charlestown,  Mass.,  before  he  came  to  this  city.  A 
few  gentlemen  purchased  the  Reformed  Dutch  Church, 
then  located  in  Murray  Street,  for  the  purpose  of 
founding  a  new  Universalist  society.  Dr.  Chapin  was 
called  as  pastor,  and  accepted  the  trust.  The  society 
whose  house  he  occupied  commenced  the  up-town 
march,  and  built  an  elegant  edifice  on  Twenty-first 
Street  and  Fifth  Avenue.  Dr.  Bellows's  congregation 
moved  from  Chambers  Street  to  Broadway,  opposite  the 
St.  Nicholas  Hotel,  and  built  what  was  then  one  of  the 
most  costly  and  sumptuous  churches  in  the  city.  Not 
satisfied  with  this,  the  congregation  took  a  start  for  a 
more  fashionable  up-town  location.  On  the  corner  of 
Fourth  Avenue  and  Twentieth  Street  they  erected 
that  strange-looking  striped  structure,  known  popularly 
as  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Zebra.  The  vacant  church 


IN  NEW  YORK.  333 

on  Broadway  was  purchased  by  Dr.  Chapin's  congrega- 
tion, and  here  his  fame  as  an  eloquent  preacher  became 
permanently  established.  The  last  season  his  congre- 
gation have  abandoned  this  down-town  edifice,  and 
have  erected,  and  now  occupy,  one  of  the  most  expen- 
sive city  churches,  in  a  most  fashionable  locality  up 
town. 

AS  A    PREACHER. 

Dr.  Chapin  was  educated  in  the  strictest  principles 
of  evangelical  faith.  His  parents  were  members  of  a 
Presbyterian  Church  south,  and  of  a  Puritan  Congre- 
gational Church  north.  The  early  religious  training 
of  Dr.  Chapin  affects  his  ministry  still.  In  it  is  found 
much  of  the  secret  of  his  success.  A  stranger,  to  hear 
him,  would  not  imagine  that  he  was  a  Universalist,  but 
would  suppose  him  to  be  an  earnest,  rousing,  evangeli- 
cal preacher.  He  uses  the  vocabulary  common  to  the 
evangelical  pulpit.  He  talks  of  sin  and  its  punishment ; 
of  the  divinity  of  Christ,  and  the  redemption  of  the 
soul  through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  ;  of  repentance 
and  faith,  regeneration,  religious  experience,  and  salva- 
tion through  the  Savior.  Of  course  he  puts  his  own 
interpretation  on  these  phrases,  but  he  uses  them  never- 
theless, usually  without  qualification  or  interpretation. 
He  is  not  dogmatical,  but  practical.  He  deals  largely 
with  the  humanities  and  the  reforms  of  the  day.  He 
was  an  open  friend  of  the  slave,  a  bold  and  able  advo- 
cate of  temperance,  and  has  given  much  of  his  time 
and  advocacy  to  the  benevolent  movements  of  the  day. 
He  is  a  rhetorician  rather  than  a  theologian.  He  can 
preach  eloquently  on  a  political  canvass,  a  snow  storm, 
a  disaster  at  sea,  or  a  fallen  omnibus  horse  in  Broad- 


334  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

way.  He  is  at  home  on  the  woes,  temptations,  sorrows, 
and  poverty  of  city  life.  He  gives  excellent  practical 
advice  to  young  men  and  young  women. 

IN    THE   PULPIT. 

No  congregation  in  New  York  is  larger  than  Dr. 
Chapin's.  It  embraces  many  marked  men  of  the  city, 
and  nearly  every  denomination  has  a  representative  in 
it.  In  appearance,  Dr.  Chapin  is  very  peculiar.  He  is 
short,  very  stout,  his  black  hair  is  turning  gray,  and  his 
beard  is  nearly  white.  He  dresses  very  little  like  a 
clergyman.  His  clothes  fit  him  as  if  they  were  made 
for  somebody  else,  and  are  put  on  without  much  regard 
to  order.  He  waddles  up  the  centre  aisle  to  the  pulpit 
at  a  brisk  pace,  swaying  from  side  to  side  like  an 
earnest  man  who  has  a  job  on  hand  that  he  means  to 
attend  to.  His  voice  is  clear,  sonorous,  shrill,  but  not 
unmusical.  His  reading  is  fastidiously  correct,  as  if  he 
had  practised  the  manner  and  cadence  before  he  left 
his  study.  In  speaking,  he  is  natural,  impetuous,  and 
stirring.  His  voice  haunts  the  hearer  like  the  remem- 
brance of  a  pleasant  song.  He  reads  closely  from  his 
manuscript,  rapidly,  and  with  great  fervor.  Most  of 
his  gestures  are  out  of  sight,  under  the  pulpit.  Occa- 
sionally he  breaks  away  from  his  notes,  and  electrifies 
his  audience  by  a  burst  of  eloquence  rarely  heard  in  a 
city  pulpit.  He  strikes  out  on  a  high  key,  which  he 
seldom  abandons  till  his  sermon  is  closed.  He  has 
none  of  that  colloquial  manner  which  marks  Mr. 
Beecher.  He  has  not  the  ability  of  soaring  to  the  full 
compass  of  his  voice  with  an  impassioned  utterance, 
and  then  falling  to  a  colloquial  tone  that  hushes  an 


IN  NEW  YORK.  335 

audience  into  general  silence.  When  he  reaches  his 
impassioned  key,  he  holds  on  to  the  end.  But  he  has 
the  rare  gift  which  marked  Wesley  and  Whitefield, 
which  distinguishes  Spurgeon  and  the  few  popular 
preachers  of  this  day,  of  putting  himself  in  sympathy 
with  his  audience,  holding  them  whether  they^will  or 
no,  and  leading  them  captive  at  will. 


PERSONAL. 


Dr.  Chapin  is  warm-hearted,  genial,  and  noble-spirited. 
He  is  very  popular  with  our  citizens  generally,  with  all 
classes  and  all  sects.  On  public  occasions,  dinners,  re- 
ceptions of  eminent  men,  the  meeting  of  military  and 
other  public  bodies,  he  is  often  selected  to  make  ad- 
dresses. He  is  very  social  in  his  friendships,  and  is 
regarded  as  a  fast  and  true  friend.  As  a  lecturer  he  is 
popular  and  successful.  Next  to  Mr.  Beecher,  his  in- 
come is  probably  larger  than  that  of  any  other  clergy- 
man in  the  state. 


336  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


XXXVII. 

• 

REV.    O.    B.    FROTHINGHAM. 

THIS  gentleman  is  pastor  of  the  Third  Unitarian 
Church  in  New  York.  His  position  is  somewhat  noted, 
as  he  holds  the  theology  that  marked  Theodore  Parker, 
and  his  friends  claim  that  the  mantle  of  the  Boston 
rationalist  has  fallen  on  Mr.  Frothingham.  His  house 
is  a  small  one  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city.  It  is  a 
very  genteel,  quiet  place  of  worship,  holding  a  small 
congregation.  With  here  and  there  an  auditor  going 
in  of  a  Sunday  morning,  the  church  presents  a  marked 
contrast  to  the  rush  and  throng  that  distinguish  the 
congregations  of  Dr.  Bellows  or  Dr.  Osgood.  Mr. 
Frothingham  is  as  little  like  a  reformer  or  a  radical  as 
can  well  be  conceived.  He  is  as  dainty  a  preacher  as 
the  most  fastidious  could  desire.  His  congregation  is 
very  select.  His  pulpit  is  loaded  down  with  flowers, 
and  everything  about  the  concern  is  as  elegant  and  as 
choice  as  a  lady's  boudoir.  At  the  exact  time,  from  a 
side  door,  the  pastor  enters  his  church,  and  begins  his 
work  in  elegant  array.  His  silk  gown  has  evidently 
been  fitted  by  an  artist.  His  black  and  curly  locks 
shine  as  if  the  barber  had  just  lifted  his  hands  from 
them  in  the  vestry.  Each  hair  is  in  its  place.  His 
voice  is  low,  and  soft,  and  sweet,  like  a  strain  of  distant 


IN   NEW   YORK.  337 

music.  His  cadence  is  that  of  the  Unitarian  school 
of  the  olden  time.  He  reads  closely,  seldom  lifts  his 
eyes  from  the  paper,  and  makes  no  gestures.  He  has 
been  pastor  of  his  church  over  ten  years,  and  the  size 
of  his  congregation  to-day  shows  that  he  is  illy  fitted 
to  change  the  theology  and  customs  of  even  the  liberal 
men  of  his  own  party.  A  rougher  oratory,  less  fastidi- 
ousness, of  a  more  decided  utterance,  are  needed  if 
New  York  is  to  be  moved. 

Mr.  Frothingham  passes  with  the  public  as  a  Parkerite. 
He  is  abstractedly  of  the  Parker  school,  but  personally 
quite  by  himself.  He  builds  faith,  as  Parker  did,  on  per- 
sonal intentions, but  does  not  feel, as  Parker  felt,  the  great 
religious  impulses  of  the  church  and  Christian  society. 
He  is  an  individualist  in  opinion  and  feeling,  whilst 
Parker  thought  mainly  for  himself,  but  felt  warmly 
with  the  masses.  Mr.  Frothingham  feels  for  the  many, 
but  not  with  them ;  is  a  democrat  in  principle,  and  an 
aristocrat  in  taste  arid  temperament;  something  of  a 
socialist  in  ideas,  and  a  recluse  in  disposition ;  a  friend 
of  the  poor  and  suffering  in  practice,  yet  a  somewhat 
fastidious  gentleman  in  his  affinities  and  associations. 
He  is  sincere,  earnest,  and  laborious  with  head,  and 
heart,  and  hand,  yet  he  has  more  brains  than  bowels, 
and  has  not  the  large  stomach,  and  full  juices  that  have 
so  much  to  do  with  the  success  of  the  Luthers  and 
Theodore  Parkers  of  reform,  and  the  Spurgeons  of  the 
platform. 

22 


338  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XXXVIII. 

PRACTICAL    JOKES. 

GREEK  SLAVE.  —  SECTARIAN   DOG.  — A  NOCTURNAL   MISTAKE.  — HOW  TO  COL- 
LECT A  CROWD.  —  SERMON  TO  OLD  VETERANS.  —  HUMOU  IN  THE  PULPIT.  

WOOL  BY  THE  FOOT.  GHOST  IN  ASTOR  LIBRARY.  —  A  BAPTIST  MINISTER  IN 

A  QUANDARY. — A  BAD  SPECULATION.  — RIVAL   CLAIMS   TO  AUTHORSHIP. — 
A  DIVINE  ON  HIS  MUSCLE.  —  BARNUM  AND  THE  RECTOR  —  FUN  AND  PIETY. 

GREEK    SLAVE. 

To  pay  off  the  debt  of  a  church  up  town,  a  fair  was 
proposed,  at  which  tableaux  were  to  be  introduced.  The 
fair  was  in  the  hands  of  some  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
the  first  respectability  and  standing.  The  printed  pro- 
gramme announced  "  The  Greek  Slave  "  as  the  closing 
tableau.  How  that  could  be  exhibited  with  propriety 
to  a  mixed  audience  was  a  marvel.  "  Say  a  house  has 
the  plague,  and  all  London  will  go  to  see  it,"  is  the 
English  proverb.  Say  that  something  supposed  to  be 
indelicate  is  to  be  put  on  exhibition,  and  the  sensitive 
will  go  in  crowds  to  express  their  indignation.  The 
intention  of  the  committee  in  putting  the  Greek  Slave 
on  the  programme  was  to  draw  a  crowd,  and  make  the 
thing  a  success,  as  of  course  it  was.  At  length  the 
tableau  of  the  Greek  Slave  was  reached.  Many  a 
heart  palpitated  and  cheek  crimsoned  as  the  curtain 
was  rung  up.  The  sight  called  out  bursts  of  laughter 


IN   NEW  YORK.  339 

and  rounds  of  applause.  On  the  centre  of  the  stage 
stood  an  Irishman  [Irish  laborers  are  called  "  Greeks  " 
in  this  region,  and  their  settlements  are  called  Greek 
settlements].  He  was  clothed  in  rags,  a  torn  hat  on  his 
head,  and  dilapidated  brogans  on  his  feet.  He  had  a 
hod  of  bricks  upon  his  shoulder,  and,  wiping  the  sweat 
from  his  brow,  he  gave  the  audience  a  knowing  nod. 
The  fair  getters-up  of  the  tableau  were  rewarded  with 
rounds  of  applause.  The  Greek  Slave  lifted  the  debt. 

SECTARIAN    DOG. 

A  gentleman  owns  a  dog  that  has  some  remarkable 
instincts.  On  week  days  he  has  all  the  passions  and 
propensities  of  other  dogs,  but  on  Sundays  his  peculiar- 
ities and  sectarian  sentiments  come  out.  Unlike  the 
crow,  he  can  count.  He  knows  when  Sunday  comes. 
He  is  not  the  same  dog  as  on  other  days.  He  indulges 
in  no  pastimes,  encourages  no  company,  and  says,  in 
actions  louder  than  words,  "  Six  days  shalt  thou  play 
and  do  all  thy  sport."  The  family  are  Presbyterians  ; 
the  dog  is  a  Methodist.  On  Sunday  mornings  he  at- 
tends the  family  to  the  Presbyterian  house  of  worship, 
and  then  holds  on  his  solitary  and  unbroken  way  until 
he  comes  to  his  own  church,  which  is  a  little  farther  on. 
He  has  a  particular  place,  up  stairs,  where  he  sits.  No 
belle,  or  madam  of  fashion,  who  sweeps  up  the  aisle  of 
a  popular  church  and  finds  a  plebeian  in  her  pew,  can 
give  a  more  decided  expression  of  displeasure  than  does 
this  dog  if  he  finds  any  one  in  his  seat.  He  attends 
divine  service,  and  pays  dogmatical  attention  to  the 
word  of  doctrine.  An  example  to  many  professed 
Christians,  he  may  be  seen  on  his  way  to  church  in 


340  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

foul  weather  as  in  fair  —  not  a  half-day  hearer  either ; 
while  his  denominational  preferences  are  as  well  known 
as  are  those  of  any  gentleman  in  the  city. 

A   NOCTURNAL   MISTAKE. 

Two  gentlemen  do  business  in  New  York.  They 
live  side  by  side  up  town.  The  houses  are  so  much 
alike  that  a  stranger  would  easily  mistake  one  for  the 
other.  With  a  security  peculiar  to  New  York,  the 
night  key  that  unlocks  one  door  answers  for  the  whole 
block.  As  everybody  knows,  the  city  is  always  under 
repair.  Before  the  house  of  one  of  these  gentlemen  a 
drain  was  opened.  He  knew  his  house  of  a  dark  night, 
because  he  stumbled  over  the  pile  of  dirt  and  rubbish 
in  front  of  his  door.  One  day  both  of  these  gentlemen 
happened  to  go  away  quite  early,  and  remained  away 
quite  late.  During  their  absence  the  drain  before  one 
door  was  closed  and  opened  before  the  other.  A  little 
mystified  by  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  one  of  the  parties, 
taking  the  drain  as  his  beacon,  unlocked  his  neighbor's 
door,  put  out  the  gas  in  the  hall,  stumbled  on  the  stairs, 
and  undertook  to  go  to  bed.  The  other  coming  home 
about  the  same  time,  avoided  the  house  near  which  the 
drain  opened,  went  into  his  friend's  house,  lit  up  the  gas 
in  the  parlor,  rung  the  bell,  and  called  for  something  to 
eat.  The  families  were  quietly  in  bed.  The  influx  of 
strangers,  and  the  loud  noise  they  made,  roused  the 
whole  house.  •  Heads  out  of  the  window,  with  night- 
caps on,  shouted  "  Police  ! "  The  city  guardians  made 
their  appearance,  and  straightened  matters.  An  at- 
tempt was  made  to  hush  up  the  affair,  but  it  was  too 
good  a  joke  not  to  get  wind. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  341 


HOW    TO    COLLECT   A    CROWD. 

Pope's  Venus  was  on  exhibition  in  the  city.  It  was 
Venus,  and  nothing  more.  It  was  not  popular,  and  the 
gallery  was  losing  money.  One  morning  a  furious 
attack  was  made,  in  one  of  the  leading  papers,  on  the 
exhibition.  The  attack  was  a  very  savage  one.  Pope's 
Venus  was  especially  denounced  as  indelicate  and  im- 
moral, and  the  virtuous  and  religious  in  New  York 
were  called  upon  to  frown  on  such  an  exhibition.  New 
York  was  indignant.  Crowds  flocked  to  the  galleries. 
But  everybody  asked,  "What  is  all  this  fuss  about? 
This  is  the  old  statue  of  Venus."  A  quiet  old  man,  who 
was  walking  round  the  room,  looking  like  a  decayed 
professor,  could  have  answered  the  question  if  he 
would. 

SERMON    TO    OLD    VETERANS. 

We  have,  in  New  York,  a  remnant  of  the  soldiers  of 
1812.  They  furnished  their  own  clothing  and  arms 
when  the  country  called  them  to  its  defence.  The 
government  has  never  paid  them  for  their  clothes. 
They  are  poor,  decrepit,  and  old.  They  can  scarcely 
give  a  fellow-member  a  decent  burial.  They  went  at 
one  time  from  church  to  church,  as  they  were  invited, 
to  attend  public  worship.  They  assembled,  about  fifty 
in  number  one  Sunday,  and  marched  in  good  order  to 
the  church.  Seats  were  reserved  for  them,  and  they 
took  their  place  in  .  the  pews.  Understanding  the 
fitness  of  things,  the  pastor,  who  had  invited  the  veter- 
ans to  worship  with  him,  selected  a  theme  appropriate 
to  the  occasion.  It  was,  the  benefits  of  Sunday  school 
instruction.  The  celebrated  Dr.  Bobbins,  of  Massa- 


342  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

chusetts,  was  invited  to  deliver  an  address  to  the 
graduating  class  of  young  ladies  of  the  Norton  Sem- 
inary. His  address  was  on  the  origin,  history,  and 
social  effects  of  duelling. 

HUMOR   IN   THE  PULPIT, 

A  very  eccentric  pastor  who  dwells  among  us  is  quite 
sensational  in  his  way  of  doing  things.  His  sermons 
are  often  from  odd  and  out-of-the-way  texts,  announced 
in  a  manner  often  to  produce  a  marked  sensation.  One 
day  he  came  into  his  church,  dressed  in  a  white  coat, 
white  pants,  and  white  vest,  a  low  Byron  collar,  around 
which  was  fastened  a  red  neck-tie.  On  arising  to  an- 
nounce his  text,  he  stood  for  a  few  moments  perfectly 
still.  His  coat  was  thrown  open,  his  thumbs  thrust  into 
the  arm-holes  of  his  vest,  and  in  a  loud,  shrill  voice,  he 
said,  "  Let  her  drive ! "  This  he  repeated,  and  then,  in  a 
low  tone,  told  his  audience  where  the  suggestive  text 
could  be  found. 

On  another  occasion,  in  speaking  of  prayer,  he  drew  a 
humorous  description  of  the  various  kinds  in  vogue  at 
the  present  day.  His  powers  of  mimicry  are  very  keen, 
and,  to  the  great  merriment  of  his  audience,  he  ridi- 
culed the  different  methods  of  addressing  the  Throne  of 
Grace.  He  told  a  story  of  a  man  who  wanted  to  pray, 
and  did  not  know  how.  He  went  to  a  minister,  and  got 
him  to  write  a  prayer  for  him.  He  pasted  this  prayer 
on  his  foot-board,  and  when  retiring  to  rest  it  was  his 
custom  to  point  to  that  prayer,  and  say,  "  Lord,  them's 
my  sentiments,"  as  he  jumped  into  bed.  In  the  same 
sermon  he  told  the  story  of  a  little  girl  who  was  pious- 
ly inclined,  yet  was  very  fond  of  pickles.  She  took 


IN  NEW   YORK.  343 

one  with  her  to  her  room  as  she  retired.  She  laid  it 
down  on  the  chair  while*  she  knelt  in  devotion.  Her 
little  sister  came  into  the  room,  helped  herself  to  the 
pickle,  and  commenced  craunching  it.  Pausing  in  her 
prayer,  the  little  devotee  said,  u  Please  excuse  me  a 
minute,  Lord,  my  sister  is  eating  up  my  pickle."  She 
arose  from  her  knees,  rescued  her  pickle,  and  then 
finished  her  prayer. 

It  is  the  custom  of  this  preacher  when  a  collection  is 
taken  up,  to  step  to  the  front  of  the  .pulpit,  take  out  his 
wallet,  deliberately  put  a  bill  on  the  plate,  and  do  so 
with  an  air  that  seems  to  say,  "  I  would  like  to  see 
any  one  in  this  house  do  less  than  that ! " 

WOOL   BY    THE   FOOT. 

A  celebrated  wool  merchant  of  this  city  keeps  a  large 
stock  on  hand.  It  is  in  lofts,  and  so  piled  as  to  present 
a  front  to  the  buyer  on  all  sides.  A  famous  dealer  went 
in  one  day  to  examine  this  stock.  The  manner  in 
which  it  was  piled  suggested  to  him  that  it  might  not 
be  as  perfect  all  the  way  through  as  it  was  on  the 
edges.  "  What  do  you  ask  for  your  stock  ? "  said  the 
dealer.  A  price  was  named,  so  much  for  the  lot.  "  I 
will  give  you  that  price,"  said  the  trader,  "  for  two  feet 
deep  all  around."  The  owner  did  not  see  the  joke  as 
the  laugh  ran  around  on  'change,  but  he  was  excessive- 
ly annoyed  when  parties  asked  him,  "  How  much  is 
wool  a  foot?" 


344  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


GHOST    IN   ASTOHr  LIBRARY. 

The  belief  in  spirits  and  ghosts  seems  to  be  bred 
in  our  bone.  Fortune-tellers,  under  different  names, 
flourish  in  New  York,  and  find  patrons  among  the 
wealthy  and  so-called  intelligent.  Some  merchants 
among  us  buy,  sell,  and  make  investments  as  they  are 
instructed  by  mediums,  in  whom  they  trust,  and  to 
whom  they  pay  their  money.  Judging  from  the  ill  suc- 
cess of  some  of  these  ventures,  it  would  be  fair  to  pre- 
sume that  the  judgment  of  spirits  is  not  much  safer  in 
the  matter  of  trade  than  that  of  men  who  remain  in 
this  world.  A  large  portion  of  the  letters  dropped  into 
the  post  office  without  any  direction  are  letters  ad- 
dressed to  fortune-tellers,  on  business,  love,  matrimony, 
and  divorce. 

Some  time  since  the  rumor  became  general  that  the 
Astor  Library  was  haunted,  and  that  a  veritable  ghost 
walked  through  the  alcoves  and  galleries  of  that  silent 
mausoleum  of  dead  authors.  It  was  announced  that 
the  dead  Dr.  Post  had  appeared  to  the  living  librarian. 
Much  excitement  was  produced.  Throngs  of  people, 
mostly  ladies,  visited  the  rooms  daily.  In  groups  they 
moved  quietly  round,  their  tread  soft,  their  voices 
trembling  and  subdued,  peering  from  alcove  to  alcove, 
as  if  they  expected,  but  dreaded,  that  the  local  ghost 
would  start  out  and  greet  them.  The  aged  librarian 
was  silent  on  the  matter,  neither  denying  nor  affirming 
that  he  had  seen  a  ghost.  His  friends  say  that  he 
firmly  believed,  to  the  day  of  his  death,  that  he  had  a 
visit  from  one  who  had  been  long  in  the  spirit  land. 
We  boast  in  the  nineteenth  century  of  our  freedom 


IN  NEW  YORK.  345 

• 

from  superstition.  But  New  York  women  and  men 
believe  as  firmly  in  ghosts  as  they  did  in  Massachusetts 
in  the  time  of  the  Salem  witchcraft. 

A    BAPTIST    MINISTER   IN   A    QUANDARY. 

A  large  congregation  filled  an  up-town  Baptist 
Church  not  long  ago.  It  was  observed  that  three  or 
four  pews  near  the  door  were  filled  with  women  of  the 
lower  class.  There  was  an  effort  at  cleanliness  and 
neatness  about  the  company.  They  seemed  to  be 
acquainted  with  each  other,  and  every  female  had  a 
young  babe  in  her  arms.  On  the  arrival  of  the  min- 
ister, he  was  told  that  these  women  were  present  to 
have  their  children  baptized.  Now  the  Baptists  believe 
that  infant  baptism  and  the  popish  mass  originated 
about  the  same  time,  in  the  same  locality,  and  the  re- 
quest put  the  preacher  in  a  quandary.  He  sent  a  kind 
word  to  the  mothers,  however,  and  informed  them  that 
he  was  not  in  the  habit  of  baptizing  children ;  but  if  he 
was,  he  knew  of  none  whom  he  would  sooner  baptize 
than  those  in  his  audience. 

BAD     SPECULATION. 

A  young  clergyman  of  this  city,  desirous  of  doing 
good,  and  having  some  money,  was  advised  to  buy  the 
Sun  newspaper,  and  turn  it  into  a  religious  sheet.  It 
circulated  largely  among  the  working  classes;  and  while 
that  fact  would  have  deterred  any  one  of  common 
sense  from  attempting  to  convert  it  into  a  high-toned 
evangelical  organ,  yet  the  advisers  of  the  gentleman 
induced  him  to  make  a  venture.  Of  course  the  paper 
ran  down  rapidly,  and  the  old  proprietor  had  to  step  in 


346  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

• 

to  save  it  from  utter  annihilation.  The  clergyman 
went  out  of  the  concern,  it  is  hoped,  thirty-five  thou- 
sand dollars  wiser,  as  he  certainly  was  thirty-five  thou- 
sand dollars  poorer. 

RIVAL    CLAIMS   TO    AUTHORSHIP. 

The  poem  "  Nothing  to  Wear  "  was  published  by  the 
Harpers,  and  for  a  time  had  a  great  run.  Its  reputed 
author  was  a  Mr.  Butler,  a  lawyer  of  this  city ;  a  man 
of  small  stature,  fair  talents,  and  a  speaker  on  platforms 
at  religious  meetings.  After  the  poem  was  published, 
the  daughter  of  an  Episcopal  clergyman  of  Connecti- 
cut laid  claim  to  the  poem,  stating  that  the  idea  and 
versification,  the  title  and  the  name,  —  Miss  Flora 
McFlimsey,  —  were  her  own.  To  verify  her  claim  she 
printed  four  lines,  which  she  avers  Mr.  Butler  omitted 
in  his  version  of  "  Nothing  to  Wear."  The  young  lady 
says  that  she  lost  the  poem  from  her  satchel  while 
riding  in  the  cars.  She  enjoys  the  confidence  and 
respect  of  a  large  circle  of  friends,  who  aver  that  she 
has  written  poetry  quite  equal  to  that  referred  to.  It 
is  quite  certain  that  Mr.  Butler  has  produced  nothing 
so  far  that  compares  with  "  Nothing  to  Wear." 

A    DIVINE    ON   HIS   MUSCLE. 

A  Doctor  of  Divinity  lives  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
city.  He  is  fond  of  out-door  exercise,  and  usually  walks 
to  his  home.  If  he  attends  a  meeting  late  at  night  in 
the  lower  part  of  the  city,  he  generally  goes  home  on  foot. 
At  a  time  when  garroters  were  plenty,  he  was  attacked 
by  a  couple  of  ruffians  late  one  night.  Understanding 
something  of  the  manly  art,  he  disabled  one  of  the 


IN  NEW   YORK.  347 

villains,  and  dragged  the  other  to  the  station-house. 
He  returned  and  secured  the  companion,  and  saw  them 
safely  locked  up  for  the  night.  He  appeared  before 
the  magistrate  the  next  morning,  and  they  were  con- 
victed and  sent  to  the  penitentiary.  The  doctor  con- 
tinues his  lonely  walks  through  the  city  late  at  night. 
It  is  said  the  gentlemen  of  the  pave,  who  admire  his 
pluck,  give  him  a  wide  berth. 

BARNUM   AND    THE   RECTOR. 

When  Tom  Thumb  was  married,  Barnum  kept  out 
of  sight.  It  was  not  known  that  he  had  anything  to 
r  do  with  the  business.  It  was  first  intended  to  have 
the  wedding  in  the  Academy  of  Music  on  the  ticket 
system,  but  the  general  would  not  submit  to  making  a 
show  of  himself  on  that  occasion,  so  that  idea  was 
abandoned.  The  bishop  of  New  York  was  to  have 
performed  the  ceremony.  Grace  Church  was  the 
fashionable  altar  at  which  high  New  York  exchanged 
its  vows.  It  required  some  finesse  and  great  skill  to 
obtain  that  fashionable  church  for  the  marriage  of  the 
Liliputians.  Barnum  undertook  to  manage  that  him- 
self. He  was  not  known  to  the  rector,  so  he  went 
boldly  into  his  presence  and  asked  for  the  church.  He 
said  the  wedding  was  to  be  of  the  most  select  character, 
tickets  were  to  be  given  to  the  aristocracy,  and  the 
guests  were  to  come  in  full  dress.  The  rector  reluc- 
tantly consented.  He  appended  to  the  consent  certain 
conditions,  which  were  put  in  writing,  and  if  any  one 
of  the  conditions  were  violated,  the  rector  had  a  right 
to  revoke  his  consent.  Two  conditions  were  expressly 
insisted  upon.  The  first  was  that  the  church  should 


348  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

not  be  mentioned  in  connection  with  the  affair  until 
the  morning  of  the  wedding,  though  all  New  York 
knew  it  ten  days  before.  "  And  now,"  said  the  rector, 
"  don't  you  let  that  Barnum  have  anything  to  do  with 
this  matter.  Don't  let  him  know  that  I  have  given 
my  consent  to  have  Grace  Church  used.  I  wouldn't 
have  Grace  Church  and  Barnum  bound  up  together  . 
for  a  thousand  dollars."  Barnum  consented  to  all  the 
conditions,  and  signed  them  on  behalf  of  the  agent,  in 
whose  name  the  affair  was  conducted.  Great  was  the 
chagrin  of  the  rector  to  learn  that  he  had  not  only 
been  outwitted  by  Barnum,  but  had  entertained, 
beneath  his  own  roof,  the  great  showman  himself! 

FUN    AND    PIETY. 

Genuine  fun  at  times  gets  into  the  Fulton  Street 
Prayer  Meeting.  Petitions  from  all  sorts  of  persons 
are  read,  for  all  sorts  of  things.  One  was  "  for  a  young 
woman  who  had  lost  her  first  love."  A  person  fre- 
quently took  part  who  was  in  the  habit  of  adding  "  er  " 
after  some  words,  such  as,  "  0  Lord-er,"  "  Hear  our 
pray-er,"  "Come  and  bless  us-er."  He  believed  in 
falling  from  grace,  and  he  had  an  eye  to  the  young 
woman  who  had  lost  her  first  love.  He  arose  to  pray, 
and  did  so  in  this  manner  :  "  0  Lord-er,  hear  the  pray-er 
of  this  young  woman-er,  who  has  lost  her  first  lov-er" 
In  each  repetition  of  the  word  he  called  it  "lov-er," 
and  so  emphasized  the  word  "first?  that  the  case 
seemed  particularly  hard,  from  the  fact  that  had  it 
been  the  second  lover  she  had  lost,  the  affliction  would 
not  have  seemed  so  great.  The  ardent  prayer  went 


IN   NEW   YORK.  349 

forth  that  the  lost  lov-er  might  be  restored.  Grave 
faces  relaxed  and  countenances,  unused  to  smile 
in  the  house  of  the  Lord  could  not  resist  the  temp- 
tation. The  idea  of  a  stray  lover  being  the  theme 
of  prayer  was  so  comical,  that  no  one  could  keep  his 
face  straight. 


350  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XXXIX. 

NEW  YEAR'S  DAY  IN  NEW  YORK 


ITS   ANTIQUITY.  —  THE     PREPARATION.  —  THE     TABLE.  —  THE    DRESS     OF     THE 
LADIES. — THE    RECEPTION.  —  NEW    YEAR'S    NIGHT. 


ITS    ANTIQUITY. 

NEW  YORK  without  New  Year's  would  be  like  Rome 
without  Christmas.  It  is  peculiarly  Dutch,  and  is  about 
the  only  institution  which  has  survived  the  wreck  of 
old  New  York.  Christmas  came  in  writh  Churchmen, 
Thanksgiving  with  the  Yankees,  but  New  Year's  came 
with  the  first  Dutchman  that  set  his  foot  on  the  Island 
of  Manhattan.  It  is  a  domestic  festivity,  in  which  sons 
and  daughters,  spiced  rums  and  the  old  drinks  of  Hol- 
land, blend.  The  long-stemmed  pipe  is  smoked,  and 
the  house  is  full  of  tobacco.  With  the  genuine  Knick- 
erbockers, New  Year's  commences  with  the  going  down 
of  the  sun  on  the  last  day  of  the  year.  Families  have 
the  "frolic  to  themselves.  Gayety,  song,  story,  glee, 
rule  the  hours  till  New  Year's  comes  in,  then  the 
salutations  of  the  season  are  exchanged,  and  the 
families  retire  to  prepare  for  the  callers  of  the  next 
day.  Outsiders,  who  "  receive  "  or  "  call,"  know  noth- 
ing of  the  exhilaration  and  exuberant  mirth  which 
marks  New  Year's  eve  among  Dutchmen. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  351 


THE    PREPARATION. 

The  day  is  better  kept  than  the  Sabbath.  The  Jews, 
Germans,  and  foreigners  unite  with  the  natives  in  this 
festival.  Trade  closes,  the  press  is  suspended,  the 
doctor  and  apothecary  enjoy  the  day,  —  the  only  day  of 
leisure  during  the  year.  It  is  the  day  of  social  atone- 
ment. Neglected  social  duties  are  performed ;  acquaint- 
ances are  kept  up ;  a  whole  year's  neglect  is  wiped  out 
by  a  proper  call  on  New  Year's.  All  classes  and  con- 
ditions of  men  have  the  run  of  fine  dwellings  and 
tables  loaded  with  luxury.  Wine  flows  free  as  the 
Croton,  and  costly  liquors  are  to  be  had  for  the  taking. 
Elegant  ladies,  in  their  most  gorgeous  and  costly  attire, 
welcome  all  comers,  and  press  the  bottle,  with  their 
most  winning  smile,  upon  the  visitor,  and  urge  him  to 
fill  himself  with  the  good  things.  The  preparation  is  a 
toilsome  and  an  expensive  thing.  To  receive  bears 
heavily  on  the  lady ;  to  do  it  in  first-class  style  draws 
heavily  on  the  family  purse.  A  general  house-cleaning, 
turning  everything  topsy-turvy,  begins  the  operation. 
New  furniture,  carpets,  curtains,  constitute  an  upper- 
ten  reception.  No  lady  receives  in  style  in  any  portion 
of  dress  that  she  has  ever  worn  before,  so  the  estab- 
lishment is  littered  with  dressmaking  from  basement 
to  attic.  This,  with  baking,  brewing,  and  roasting, 
keeps  the  whole  house  in  a  stir. 

THE   TABLE. 

Great  rivalry  exists  among  people  of  style  about 
the  table  —  how  it  shall  be  set,  the  plate  to  cover  it> 
the  expense,  and  many  other  considerations  tha,t  raake 


352  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  table  the  pride  and  plague  of  the  season.  To  set 
well  a  New  Year's  table  requires  taste,  patience,  tact, 
and  cash.  It  must  contain  ample  provision  for  a  hun- 
dred men.  It  must  be  loaded  down  with  all  the  luxu- 
ries of  the  season,  served  up  in  the  most  costly  and 
elegant  style.  Turkey,  chickens,  and  game ;  cake, 
fruits,  and  oysters  3  lemonade,  coffee,  and  whiskey ; 
brandy,  wines,  and  —  more  than  all,  and  above  all  — 
punch.  This  mysterious  beverage  is  a  New  York  in- 
stitution. To  make  it  is  a  trade  that  few  understand. 
Men  go  from  house  to  house,  on  an  engagement,  to  fill 
the  punch  bowl.  Lemons,  rum,  cordials,  honey,  and 
mysterious  mixtures,  from  mysterious  bottles  brought 
by  the  compounder,  enter  into  this  drink.  So  delicious 
is  it,  that  for  a  man  to  be  drunk  on  New  Year's  day 
from  punch  is  not  considered  any  disgrace. 

DRESS    OF    THE   LADIES. 

This  is  the  most  vexatious  and  troublesome  of  all  the 
preparations  for  New  Year's.  Taste  and  genius  ex- 
l^aust  themselves  in  producing  something  fit  to  be 
worn.  The  mothers  and  daughters  quarrel.  Feathers, 
low-necked  dresses,  and  gorgeous  jewelry  the  matron 
takes  to  herself.  The  daughters  are  not  to  be  shown 
off  as  country  cousins,  or  sisters  of  the  youthful  mother, 
and  intend  to  take  care  of  their  own  array.  The  con- 
test goes  on  step  by  step,  mingled  with  tears  of  spite 
and  sharp  repartee  till  midnight,  nor  does  the  trouble 
then  end.  Few  persons  can  be  trusted  to  arrange  the 
hair.  Some  parties  keep  an  artist  in  the  family.  Those 
who  do  not,  depend  upon  a  fashionable  hair-dresser, 
who,  on  New  Year's,  literally  has  his  hands  full.  En- 


IN  NEW   YORK.  353 

gagements  run  along  for  weeks,  beginning  at  the 
latest  hour  that  full  dressing  .will  admit.  These  en- 
gagements run  back  to  midnight  on  New  Year's  eve. 
Matron  or  maid  must  take  the  artist  when  he  calls. 
As  the  peal  of  bells  chimes  out  the  Old  Year,  the  door- 
bell rings  in  the  hair-dresser.  From  twelve  o'clock 
midnight  till  twelve  o'clock  noon,  New  Year's,  the  lady 
with  the  ornamented  head-top  maintains  her  upright 
position,  like  a  sleepy  traveller  in  a  railroad  car,  because 
lying  down  under  such  circumstances  is  out  of  the 
question.  The  magnificent  dresses  of  the  ladies  ;  dia- 
monds owned,  or  hired  for  the  occasion  ;  the  newly- 
furnished  house,  adorned  at  great  expense  ;  the  table 
loaded  with  every  luxury  and  elegance ;  the  ladies  in 
their  places;  the  colored  servant  at  the  door  in  his 
clerical  outfit,  —  show  that  all  things  are  ready  for 

THE   RECEPTION. 

The  commonalty  begin  their  calls  about  ten.  The 
elite  do  not  begin  till  noon,  and  wind  up  at  midnight. 
Men  who  keep  carriages  use  them,  the  only  day  in  the 
year  in  which  many  merchants  see  the  inside  of  their 
own  coaches.  Exorbitant  prices  are  charged  for  hacks. 
Fifty  dollars  a  day  is  a  common  demand.  Corporations 
send  out  immense  wagons,  in  which  are  placed  bands 
of  music,  and  from  ten  to  twenty  persons  are  drawn 
from  place  to  place  to  make  calls.  The  express  com- 
panies turn  out  in  great  style.  The  city  is  all  alive 
with  men.  It  is  a  rare  thing  to  see  a  woman  on  the 
streets  on  New  Year's  day.  It  is  not  genteel,  some- 
times not  safe.  Elegantly-dressed  men,  in  yellow  kids, 
are  seen  hurrying  in  all  directions.  They  walk  singly 
23 


354  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

and  in  groups.  Most  every  one  has  a  list  of  calls  in 
his  hand.  The  great  boast  is  to  make  many  calls. 
From  fifty  to  a  hundred  and  fifty  is  considered  a 
remarkable  feat.  Men  drive  up  to  the  curbstone  if 
they  are  in  coaches,  or  run  up  the  steps  if  they  are  on 
foot,  give  the  bell  a  jerk,  and  walk  in.  The  name  of 
one  of  the  callers  may  be  slightly  known.  He  is 
attended  by  half  a  dozen  who  are  entirely  unknown  to 
the  ladies,  and  whom  they  will  probably  never  see 
again.  A  general  introduction  takes  place ;  the  ladies 
bow  and  invite  to  the  table.  A  glass  of  wine  or  a  mug 
of  punch  is  poured  down  in  haste,  a  few  pickled  oysters 
—  the  dish  of  dishes  for  New  Year's  —  are  bolted,  and 
then  the  intellectual  entertainment  commences.  "  Fine 
day  "  —  "  Beautiful  morning  "  —  "  Had  many  calls  ?  "  — 
"  Oysters  first  rate  "  — "  Great  institution  this  New 
Year's  "  —  "  Can't  stay  but  a  moment  "  —  "  Fifty  calls  to 
make  "  —  "  Another  glass  of  punch  ?  "  —  "  Don't  care  if 
I  do"  —  "Good-morning."  And  this  entertaining  con- 
versation is  repeated  from  house  to  house  by  those  who 
call,  till  the  doors  are  closed  on  business.  Standing  on 
Murray  Hill,  and  looking  down  Fifth  Avenue,  with  its 
sidewalks  crowded  with  finely-dressed  men,  its  street 
thronged  with  the  gayest  and  most  sumptuous  equi- 
pages the  city  can  boast,  the  whole  looks  like  a  carnival. 

NEW  YEAR'S  NIGHT. 

The  drunkenness  and  debauchery  of  a  New  Year's  in 
this  city  is  a  disgrace  to  the  people.  As  night  ap- 
proaches, callers  rush  into  houses  where  the  lights  are 
brilliant,  calling  for  strong  drinks,  while  their  flushed 
cheeks,  swollen  tongues,  and  unsteady  gait  tell  what 


IN  NEW   YORK.  355 

whiskey  and  punch  have  done  for  them.  From  dark 
till  midnight  the  streets  are  noisy  with  the  shouts  of 
revellers.  Gangs  of  well-dressed  but  drunken  young 
men  fill  the  air  with  glees,  songs,  oaths,  and  ribaldry. 
Fair  ladies  blush  as  their  callers  come  reeling  into  the 
room,  too  unsteady  to  walk,  and  too  drunk  to  be  decent. 
Omnibuses  are  filled  with  shouting  youngsters,  who 
cannot  hand  their  change  to  the  driver,  and  old  fellows 
who  do  not  know  the  street  they  live  in.  Joined  with 
the  loud  laughter,  and  shout,  and  song  of  the  night, 
the  discharge  of  pistols,  the  snap  of  crackers,  and 
illuminations  from  street  corners,  become  general.  At 
midnight  the  calls  end  ;  the  doors  are  closed,  the  gas 
turned  off,  the  ladies,  wearied  and  disgusted,  lay  aside 
their  gewgaws,  very  thankful  that  New  Year's  comes 
only  once  in  the  season. 


356  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XL. 

CENTRAL    PARK. 

ITS     ORIGIN.  —  THE     COMMISSION.  —  ITS    INFLUENCE    ON    THE    PEOPLE.  —  THE 
ZOOLOGICAL    GARDEN.  —  THE    PRIDE    OF    NEW    YORK. 

ITS    ORIGIN. 

IT  is  not  a  little  curious  that  the  unsurpassed  loca- 
tion of  the  Central  Park  owes  its  origin  to  a  quarrel 
among  politicians.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  a  finer 
location.  Its  extent,  central  site,  natural  features,  out- 
lets, drives,  and  attractions  are  exceeded  by  no  similar 
enclosure  in  the  world.  In  1850,  the  legislature  of 
New  York  entertained  a  bill  for  the  purchase  of  a  piece 
of  unimproved  land,  known  as  Jones's  Wood,  for  a  public 
park.  The  party  who  introduced  the  bill  was  a  senator 
from  New  York.  An  alderman  of  the  city  was  his 
bitter  opponent.  After  the  bill  had  passed  locating 
the  park  at  Jones's  Wood,  the  alderman  called  upon  Mr. 
Kennedy,  now  General  Superintendent  of  Police,  at  his 
store,  to  get  him  to  unite  in  defeating  the  purchase. 
Mr.  Kennedy  had  thought  nothing  of  the  bill.  A  map 
was  brought  and  the  site  examined.  The  points  made 
by  the  alderman  were,  that  the  senator  who  introduced 
the  bill  was  interested,  and  would  be  largely  profited 
by  the  sale.  The  plot  was  on  the  extreme  eastern  side 


IN  NEW   YORK.  357 

of  the  city  ;  it  was  small,  scarcely  a  dozen  blocks  ;  a 
thick  population  bounded  it  on  the  south,  Harlem  shut 
it  in  on  the  north,  the  East  River  formed  another 
boundary,  and  enlargement  was  impossible;  besides, 
the  price  was  enormous. 

While  examining  the  maps,  Mr.  Kennedy  pointed 
out  the  present  site  of  the  park.  It  was  then  one  of 
the  most  abandoned  and  filthy  spots  of  the  city.  It 
was  covered  with  shanties,  and  filled  with  the  most 
degraded  of  our  population.  The  valleys  reeked  with 
corruption  arid  every  possible  abomination.  It  was 
viler  than  a  hog-pen,  and  the  habitation  of  pestilence. 
As  a  place  for  building  it  was  nearly  worthless,  as  the 
grading  of  it  was  out  of  the  question.  As  a  site  for  a 
public  park,  its  inequalities  of  hill  and  dale,  its  rocky 
promontories,  and  its  variety  of  surface,  made  it  every 
way  desirable.  The  great  point  of  the  alderman  was 
to  defeat  his  political  opponent  and  the  bill  for  the 
purchase  of  Jones's  Wood.  The  eminent  fitness  of  the 
new  spot  was  conceded  at  once.  The  omnipotent  press 
joined  in  the  new  movement.  The  proposed  name  of 
Central  Park  was  received  with  acclamation.  The 
purchase  of  Jones's  Wood  was  annulled.  The  bill  for 
the  opening  of  Central  Park  passed.  In  1856,  the 
purchase  was  complete,  and  the  work  commenced. 

THE    COMMISSION. 

At  first  the  Central  Park  was  a  corporation  matter. 
The  city  officials  were  so  corrupt,  that  the  friends  of 
the  measure  refused  to  put  it  into  the  hands  of  the 
Common  Council.  The  Aldermen,  in  city  matters,  were 
omnipotent.  They  were  county  officers  as  well  as  city. 


358  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

If  they  sent  a  bill  to  the  Council,  and  that  body  refused 
to  concur,  the  Aldermen  could  meet  as  a  Board  of 
Supervisors,  and  pass  the  bill  that  the  Council  had 
rejected  or  the  Mayor  vetoed.  The  Legislature  put 
the  affairs  of  the  Park  into  the  hands  of  a  Commission, 
made  up  of  distinguished  men,  representing  the  great 
parties  of  the  city. 

On  receiving  their  appointment,  the  Commissioners 
called  a  meeting  of  the  distinguished  citizens  of  New 
York  to  consult  on  the  laying  out  of  the  Park.  Wash- 
ington Irving  took  the  chair.  The  models  of  Europe 
would  not  do  for  New  York.  This  Park  was  not  for 
royalty,  for  the  nobility,  nor  the  wealthy;  but  for  the 
people,  of  all  classes  and  ranks.  Drives,  public  and 
quiet ;  roads  for  equestrians  and  for  pedestrians ;  plots 
for  games  and  parades,  for  music  and  public  receptions, 
must  be  secured.  The  main  features  that  the  Park 
now  wears  were  adopted  at  that  meeting. 

ITS  INFLUENCE  ON  THE  PEOPLE. 

The  Park  is  two  and  a  half  miles  long,  a  half  mile 
wide,  and  comprises  eight  hundred  and  forty-three 
acres.  The  main  drive,  from  Fifty-ninth  Street  along 
the  Fifth  Avenue,  is  seventy  feet  wide,  with  a  footpath 
fifteen  feet  wide,  and,  with  its  Macadamized  road-bed,  is 
one  of  the  finest  in  the  world.  Along  its  pathway,  where 
three  hundred  miserable  shanties  were  straggling,  filled 
with  squalid  women,  and  ragged,  and  untamed  children, 
with  its  hollows  and  ravines  full  of  stagnant  water  and 
filthiness,  with  barren  rocks,  offensive  and  unsightly, 
now  green  velvet  lawns  greet  the  eye,  choice  flowers 
bloom,  museums  of  taste  and  galleries  of  art  stand, 


IN   NEW  YORK.  359 

zoological  gardens  instruct  and  please,  conservatories 
arise,  and  the  grounds  are  studded  with  statuary  and 
works  of  art,  the  gift  of  liberal  friends.  The  old  Arsenal, 
in  the  Park,  is  a  gallery  of  art,  free  to  the  public.  The 
widow  of  Crawford,  the  artist,  presented  to  the  Park 
the  plaster  casts  from  her  husband's  studio.  Among 
the  collection  is  the  model  of  the  famous  statue  of  Wash- 
ington, at  Richmond,  with  the  colossal  statues  of  Jeffer- 
son, Henry,  Lee,  Marshall,  and  other  favorite  sons  of 
Virginia.  The  intelligent  mechanical  skill  of  this  day 
is  taking  down  the  unsightly  aqueduct  which  disfigures 
a  portion  of  the  Park,  and  is  substituting  underground 
mains,  which  are  to  take  the  place  for  miles  of  unsight- 
ly masonry. 

The  whole  influence  of  the  Park  has  been  to  educate 
and  elevate  the  public  taste,  and  to  inspire  a  love  for 
the  beautiful.  The  "transverse  roads"  that  traverse  the 
Park  are  a  curiosity  and  an  educator.  Teams  are  driven 
across  the  Park,  funerals,  with  their  long  line  of  car- 
riages, thousands  of  cattle  for  the  market,  and  teams  that 
no  man  can  count ;  yet  all  this  is  hidden  from  the  eye  of 
the  visitors.  These  transverse  roads  are  canals  walled 
in  by  solid  masonry.  They  pass  under  the  bridges  of 
the  Park,  and,  by  an  ingenious  contrivance,  are  hidden 
from  the  eye  by  trees,  grass,  flowers,  and  groves.  It  is 
seldom  that  the  grass  is  trodden  upon  or  the  flowers 
plucked.  The  police  are  everywhere  to  arrest  fast 
driving,  and  all  who  commit  breaches  of  the  rules. 
Before  the  Park  was  opened  horse  flesh  was  at  a  dis- 
count, and  was  the  derision  of  Boston,  Philadelphia,  and 
Baltimore.  Fabulous  sums  have  been  paid  for  fine 
horses  since  the  opening  of  the  Park.  While  driving 


360  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW        * 

is  limited  to  six  miles  an  hour  within  the  enclosure,  a 
fine  boulevard  has  been  opened  by  the  Commissioners, 
where  men  may  try  the  mettle  of  their  teams  if  they 
will.  A  private  trotting  course  on  the  road  allows 
steeds  to  be  trained.  The  road  for  fast  horses  is  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  Park  to  High  Bridge.  It  is  broad, 
level,  and  well  Macadamized.  It  is  the  sight  of  sights 
on  a  pleasant  afternoon.  Here  the  notable  men  of 
New  York  can  be  seen  in  their  glory.  There  is  scarce- 
ly a  horse  noted  for  show,  elegance,  or  speed  that  can- 
not here  be  seen  on  an  afternoon.  Fast  old  men,  and 
fast  young  men,  leaders  of  the  bulls  and  bears  on  ex- 
change, stock  speculators,  millionnaires,  railroad  kings, 
bankers,  book-men,  and  merchants,  the  bloods  of  the 
city,  and  all  who  can  command  a  two-forty  horse,  appear 
on  the  drive.  All  is  exhilaration;  the  road  is  full  of  dust; 
teams  crowd  the  thoroughfare;  horses  tear  up  and  down, 
to  the  horror  of  nervous  and  timid  people  ;  fast  teams 
race  with  each  other,  and  frequently  interlock  and 
smash  up,  while  the  tearing  teams  hold  on  their  course, 
carrying  terror  and  dismay  along  the  whole  road. 
Danger  as  well  as  excitement  attends  the  drive.  Some 
of  the  fastest  teams  are  driven  by  men  between  sixty 
and  seventy,  who  have  all  the  enthusiasm  of  youth, 
and  shout  out  their  "  Hi!  hi's!"  and  other  exclamations, 
so  common  to  fast  teams  at  their  utmost  speed.  Some 
of  the  horses  driven  on  this  road  cost  from  five  to  fifty 
thousand  dollars,  and  could  not  be  purchased  at  any 
price. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  361 


THE    ZOOLOGICAL    GARDEN. 

Near  the  skating  pond,  which  is  the  great  attraction 
in  the  winter,  a  square  has  been  laid  out  for  a  Zoologi- 
cal Garden.  It  is  separated  from  the  Park  by  the 
Eighth  Avenue,  but  it  is  to  be  connected  by  a  tunnel 
under  the  railroad.  It  has  natural  caves,  which  are  to 
be  dens  for  lions,  bears,  and  wild  beasts.  It  has  natural 
lakes  and  ponds,  and  when  completed  will  be  one  of 
the  great  attractions  of  the  Park.  The  collections  of 
wild  beasts,  birds,  and  rare  and  curious  animals  are  al- 
ready very  large.  Donations  to  this  department  are 
numerous.  This  will  be  one  of  the  richest  collec- 
tions in  the  country. 

THE   PRIDE    OF   NEW    YORK. 

• 

New  Yorkers  boast  of  their  Park,  and  have  good 
reason  so  to  do.  It  is  indeed  beautiful  for  situation, 
and  the  Commissioners  have  built  themselves  a  monu- 
ment in  the  tasteful  and  attractive  manner  in  which 
they  have  performed  their  work.  On  a  bare,  unsightly, 
and  disgusting  spot,  they  have  created  an  area  of 
beauty,  charming  as  the  Garden  of  the  Lord.  Where 
not  a  tree  or  shrub  was  found,  they  have  bidden  a  forest 
spring  up,  and  have  planted  three  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  eight  hundred  and  forty-six  shrubs  and  trees. 
The  original  cost  of  the  Park  was  four  million  eight 
hundred  and  fifteen  thousand  six  hundred  and  seventy- 
one  dollars.  The  total  cost,  with  the  purchase  and  con- 
struction up  to  the  last  report,  was  nearly  nine  millions 
of  dollars.  The  cost  of  construction  and  maintenance 
the  past  year  was  over  five  hundred  thousand  dollars. 


362  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

The  Park  contains  over  seven  miles  of  carriage  road, 
six  miles  of  bridle  paths,  and  twenty  miles  of  walks. 
On  Saturday  afternoon  it  is  a  sight  to  behold.  It  is 
the  people's  day,  and  the  people's  Park.  Tens  of 
thousands,  composed  of  the  various  nationalities  of 
the  city,  assemble.  Dodworth's  band,  from  a  gaudy 
Oriental  pagoda,  furnish  the  music.  Immense  awnings 
are  stretched  on  all  sides,  under  which  the  crowds  sit 
in  great  comfort.  The  grass,  close  shaven  by  a 
machine,  is  open  to  the  gambols  of  children.  The 
crowd  is  composed  of  the  millionnaire  and  the  hod- 
carrier  ;  ragged  newsboys  and  the  Fifth  Avenue 
exquisite ;  ladies  in  the  latest  style,  and  female  emi- 
grants just  arrived ;  madame  flashing  with  jewels,  and 
the  scrubbing-woman  who  cleans  paint  and  washes 
linen ;  vehicles  of  wondrous  construction,  and  carriages 
that  might  have  come  out  of  the  ark;  the  splendid 
turnouts,  with  servants  in  livery,  and  an  old  box- 
wagon,  driven  by  a  Jerseyman  or  a  farmer  from 
Long  Island. 

The  rules  of  the  Park  are  very  strict,  and  are  rigidly 
enforced.  Within  hearing  of  the  band  no  carriage 
can  move  while  a  piece  of  music  is  being  played. 
About  three  o'clock,  the  crowd  in  carriages,  on  horse- 
back, and  on  foot,  pour  into  the  great  pathway  that 
leads  to  the  music  stand,  and  from  thence  diverge 
into  the  different  portions  of  the  Park,  filling  the 
grottos,  the  rambles,  plains,  and  hills,  sailing  on  the 
lakes,  feeding  the  swans,  lolling  in  the  summer-houses, 
and  making  a  panorama  of  beauty,  to  see  which  is  well 
worth  making  a  visit  to  New  York. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  363 


XLI. 

SCHOOL    OF    INSTRUCTION    FOR    THE 
METROPOLITAN    POLICE. 

THE  efficiency  of  the  New  York  police  is  largely  in- 
debted to  the  School  of  Instruction.  This  department 
is  under  the  charge  of  Mr.  Leonard,  who,  for  twenty- 
three  years,  has  been  a  member  of  the  police.  He  is 
eminently  qualified  for  the  task  committed  to  him.  He 
is  tall,  with  a  fine  frame,  a  genial,  intelligent  face,  a 
gentlemanly  bearing,  and  is  one  of  the  most  efficient 
and  accomplished  officers  in  New  York.  He  is  every 
inch  a  gentleman,  and  has  been  an  inspector  of  the 
force  since  the  rank  was  created. 

When  a  man  is  appointed  on  the  force,  he  is  im- 
mediately assigned  to  duty.  But  for  the  period  of 
thirty  days  he  has  to  appear  at  the  School  of  Instruc- 
tion daily.  A  book  of  laws  is  put  into  his  hands,  and 
he  must  make  himself  familiar  with  its  contents.  He 
is  then  examined  in  every  thing  pertaining  to  his 
duties.  He  must  be  civil,  decorous,  use  no  insulting 
word ;  must  not  drink,  nor  visit  places  where  liquor  is 
sold ;  must  not  smoke  nor  read  on  duty,  nor  withdraw 
a  complaint ;  must  keep  a  memorandum-book ;  must 
accept  no  money  froin  a  citizen ;  must  not  assist  an 
officer  to  prosecute  a  civil  case  ;  must  take  off  his 


364  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW  ' 

clothes  at  night,  put  on  tinder-clothes,  and  keep  his 
room  ventilated  ;  arrest  vagrants  ;  and,  while  enjoying 
his  own  political  and  religious  opinions,  be  a  delegate 
to  no  political  convention  ;  salute  his  superiors  ;  try  all 
the  doors ;  must  not  be  found  off  his  post ;  must  not 
talk  to  citizens  ;  not  visit  his  own  house  while  on  duty  ; 
report  all  nuisances  thrown  into  the  street ;  arrest  men 
who  attempt  to  steal,  or  commit  assault,  or  carry  slung 
shot ;  arrest  all  who  are  fighting,  brawling,  or  threaten- 
ing, or  violate  decency  ;  arrest  an  omnibus  driver  for 
loitering,  or  a  carman  who  has  no  number  on  his  cart, 
or  a  hackman  who  is  extortionate,  or  drivers  of  vans  or 
wagons  who  go  over  six  miles  an  hour.  Such  are  some 
of  the  lessons  learned  in  the  school.  Over  one  thou- 
sand nine  hundred  men  have  been  instructed  in  this 
school  within  three  years.  When  the  men  go  out  to 
their  duties,  they  know  exactly  what  they  have  to  do, 
and  know  that  the  Commissioners  will  sustain  them  in 
the  prompt,  bold,  and  faithful  performance  of  it. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  365 


XLII. 

LIFE    AMONG    THE    LOWLY. 

INTERESTING  FACTS,  GIVEN  TO  THE  WRITER  BY  REV.  S.  P.  HALLIDAT,  SUPER- 
INTENDENT OF  FIVE  POINTS  HOUSE  OF  INDUSTRY.  —  HOMES  OF  THE 
LOWLY.  — A  NIGHT  TRAMP.  — BAREFOOTED  BEGGAR.  —  A  STREET  BOY. 
—  A  SAD  SCENE.  —  GENTEEL  SUFFERING. 

HOMES    OF    THE    LOWLY. 

THE  extreme  value  of  land  in  the  city  makes  tene- 
ment-houses a  necessity.  Usually  they  occupy  a  lot 
twenty-five  by  one  hundred  feet,  six  stories  high,  with 
apartments  for  four  families  on  each  floor.  These 
houses  resemble  barracks  more  than  dwellings  for 
families.  One  standing  on  a  lot  fifty  by  two  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  has  apartments  for  one  hundred  and 
twenty-six  families.  Nearly  all  the  apartments  are  so 
situated  that  the  sun  can  never  touch  the  windows. 
In  a  cloudy  day  it  is  impossible  to  have  sunlight  enough 
to  read  or  see.  A  narrow  room  and  bedroom  comprise 
an  apartment.  Families  keep  boarders  in  these  narrow 
quarters.  Two  or  three  families  live  in  one  apartment 
frequently.  Not  one  of  the  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
six  rooms  can  be  properly  ventilated.  The  vaults  and 
water-closets  are  disgusting  and  shameful.  They  are 
accessible  not  only  to  the  five  or  six  hundred  occu- 
pants of  the  building,  but  to  all  who  choose  to  go  in 


366  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

from  the  street.  The  water-closets  are  without  doors, 
and  privacy  is  impossible.  Into  these  vaults  every 
imaginable  abomination  is  poured.  The  doors  from 
the  cellar  open  in  the  vault,  and  the  whole  house  is 
impregnated  with  a  stench  that  would  poison  cattle. 

A    NIGHT    TRAMP. 

With  a  lantern  and  an  officer,  a  visit  to  the  cellars 
where  the  poor  of  New  York  sleep  may  be  undertaken 
with  safety.  Fetid  odors  and  pestiferous  smells  greet 
you  as  you  descend.  There  bunks  are  built  on  the 
side  of  the  room ;  beds  filthier  than  can  be  imagined, 
and  crowded  with  occupants.  No  regard  is  paid  to  age 
or  sex.  Men,  women,  and  children  are  huddled 
together  in  one  disgusting  mass.  Without  a  breath 
of  air  from  without,  these  holes  are  hot-beds  of  pesti- 
lence. The  landlord  was  asked,  in  one  cellar,  "  How 
many  can  you  lodge  ?  "  "  We  can  lodge  twenty-five  ; 
if  we  crowd,  perhaps  thirty." 

The  lodgers  in  these  filthy  dens  seem  to  be  lost  to 
all  moral  feeling,  and  to  all  sense  of  shame.  They  are 
not  as  decent  as  the  brutes.  Drunken  men,  debased 
women,  young  girls,  helpless  children,  are  packed 
together  in  a  filthy,  under-ground  room,  destitute  of 
light  or  ventilation,  reeking  with  filth,  and  surrounded 
with  a  poisoned  atmosphere.  The  decencies  of  life  are 
abandoned,  and  blasphemy  and  ribald  talk  fill  the  place. 

BAREFOOTED    BEGGAR. 

On  one  of  the  coldest  days  of  winter  two  girls  were 
seen  on  Broadway  soliciting  alms.  The  larger  of  the 
two  awakened  sympathy  by  her  destitute  appearance. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  36 


An  old  hood  covered  her  head,  a  miserable  shawl  her 
shoulders.  Her  shivering  form  was  enveloped  in  a 
nearly  worn-out  dress,  which  was  very  short,  exposing 
the  lower  part  of  her  limbs  and  feet.  She  had  on 
neither  shoes  nor  stockings.  Nearly  every  person  that 
passed  the  girl  gave  her  something.  Believing  they 
were  impostors.  Mr.  Halliday  approached  them,  and 
demanded  where  they  lived.  On  being  told,  he  pro- 
posed to  attend  them  home.  They  misled  him  as  to 
their  residence.  They  attempted  to  elude  him,  and  at 
length  the  younger  said,  "  Mister,  there  is  no  use  going 
any  farther  this  way  ;  she  don't  live  on  Fifty-third 
Street,  she  lives  on  Twelfth  Street,  and  she  has  got 
shoes  and  stockings  under  her  shawl."  She  was  taken 
before  a  magistrate,  and  committed  to  the  Juvenile 
Asylum. 

A    STREET    BOY. 

It  is  estimated  that  there  are  over  ten  thousand 
street  boys  in  New  York.  They  swarm  along  our 
parks,  markets,  and  landings,  stealing  sugar,  molasses, 
cotton.  They  steal  anything  they  can  lay  their  hands 
on.  They  prowl  through  the  streets,  ready  for  mis- 
chief. Mr.  Halliday  gives  an  interesting  account  of 
one  of  this  class.  He  was  the  son  of  a  widow.  He 
played  truant,  and  became  a  regular  young  vagabond. 
He  was  one  of  the  young  Arabs  of  the  city.  Mr.  Halli- 
day resolved  to  save  him.  He  introduced  him  into  the 
Home  of  the  Friendless.  He  ran  away,  and  resumed  his 
Arab  life.  He  was  sought  for,  and  found  on  one  of  the 
wharves.  The  following  dialogue  took  place  :  "  Where 
have  you  been,  Willie  ?  ';  "  Nowhere,  sir."  "  What 
have  you  been  doing  since  you  ran  away  from  the 


368  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

Home  ?  "  "  Nothing,  sir."  "  What  have  you  had  to 
eat  ? "  "  Nothing,  sir."  "  What  !  have  you  eaten 
nothing  these  two  days  ?  "  "  No,  sir."  "  What  was 
that  that  fell  out  of  your  hand  just  now  when  you 
struck  against  your  brother  ?  "  "A  soda-water  bottle." 
«  Where  did  you  get  it  ?  "  "I  stole  it."  «  What  were 
you  going  to  do  with  it  ?  "  "  Sell  it."  "  What  were 
you  going  to  do  with  the  money  ?  "  "  Buy  something 
to  eat."  "Are  you  hungry?"  "Yes,  sir."  "Where 
have  you  staid  since  you  left  the  Home  ? "  "  On 
Tenth  Street."  "Whose  house  did  you  stay  in?" 
"  Nobody's."  "  No  one's  house  ?  "  "  No,  sir."  It  had 
rained  very  hard  the  night  previous,  and  I  asked 
again,  "  Where  did  you  stay  last  night  ?  "  "  Corner 
of  Avenue  A  and  Tenth  Street."  "  Whose  house  did 
you  stay  in?"  "No  one's."  "But  you  told  me  just 
now  you  stopped  last  night  corner  of  Avenue  A  and 
Tenth  Street."  "So  I  did."  "  And  you  slept  in  no 
one's  house  ? "  "  No,  sir."  "  Where  did  you  sleep, 
then  ?  "  "  In  a  sugar-box."  "  In  a  sugar-box  ?  "  "  Yes, 
sir."  "  Did  you  not  get  wet  with  the  rain  ?  "  "  Yes,  sir." 
"  How  did  you  get  your  clothes  dry  ?  "  "  Stood  up  in 
the  sun  until  they  were  dry."  He  was  again  placed  in 
the  Home  of  the  Friendless ;  again  ran  away ;  and 
finally  was  put  into  the  Refuge,  as  all  kindness  seemed 
to  be  lost  upon  him. 

A    SAD    SCENE. 

In  the  so-called  chapel  of  the  prison  sits  a  little  girl 
amid  a  throng  of  dirty,  drunken  women.  She  is  small, 
and  only  seven  years  of  agQ.  Her  story  is  told  in  a 
single  line  - —  her  father  is  in  the  Tombs,  her  mother  is 


IN  NEW  YORK.  369 

at  the  station-house.  What  she  calls  her  home  is  a 
single  room,  nine  feet  under  ground,  without  fire, 
though  the  thermometer  is  at  zero.  A  portion  of  an 
old  bedstead,  a  broken  tick  part  full  of  straw,  with  a 
pillow,  on  which  are  marks  of  blood,  lies  upon  the  floor. 
The  father  was  a  cartman.  He  came  home  one  night 
drunk  and  brutal,  and  knocked  his  wife  down  with  a 
heavy  stick.  Afterwards  he  stamped  upon  her  with 
his  heavy  boots,  until  she  was  unable  to  speak.  The 
woman  died,  and  the  man  was  arrested.  The  little  girl 
was  sent  to  the  Tombs  as  a  witness,  and  was  placed 
under  the  care  of  the  matron.  When  the  trial  came  on, 
it  was  decided  that  the  little  girl  was  too  young  to 
testify.  The  man  pleaded  guilty  of  manslaughter,  and 
was  sent  to  the  State  Prison.  It  was  a  happy  day  fpr 
little  Katy  when  she  sat  on  the  bench  with  those 
miserable  women  hearing  a  sermon  preached.  She 
found  a  kind  friend  in  Mr.  Halliday,  and  through  him 
obtained  a  happy  western  home. 

GENTEEL    SUFFERING. 

Sudden  reverses  reduce  well-to-do  people  to  poverty. 
Sickness  comes  into  a  household  like  an  armed  man. 
Death  strikes  down  a  father,  and  leaves  a  family  penni- 
less. One  day  a  lady  of  very  genteel  appearance 
called  at  the  Mission.  Bursting  into  tears,  she  said  to 
the  superintendent,  "  Sir,  I  have  come  to  ask  for  assist- 
ance. It  is  the  first  time  in  my  life.  I  would  not  now, 
but  I  have  been  driven  to  it.  I  could  bear  hunger  and 
cold  myself,  but  I  could  not  hear  my  children  cry  for 
bread.  For  twenty-four  hours  I  have  not  had  a  mouth- 
ful for  myself  or  them.  While  there  was  work,  I  could 
24 


370  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

get  along  tolerably  well.  I  have  had  none  for  some 
time ;  now  I  must  beg,  or  my  children  starve."  Her 
husband  had  been  a  mechanic.  He  had  come  to  New 
York  from  the  country.  The  family  lived  in  comfort 
till  sickness  stopped  their  resources,  and  death  struck 
the  father  down.  The  mother  attempted  to  keep  her 
little  family  together, and  support  them  by  her  own  labor. 
Five  years  she  had  toiled,  planned,  and  suffered.  Her 
earnings  were  small,  and  from  time  to  time  she  sold 
articles  of  furniture  to  give  her  children  bread.  Over- 
exertion,  long  walks  in  rain  and  cold  to  obtain  work, 
insufficient  clothing,  want  of  nutritious  food,  with 
anxiety  for  her  children,  prostrated  her.  She  was 
obliged  to  call  for  aid  on  some  of  our  benevolent  insti- 
tutions. She  is  a  specimen  of  hundreds  of  noble  suffer- 
ing women  in  New  York. 


IN  NEW  YOEK.  371 


XLIII. 

SOCIAL    EVIL    IN    NEW    YORK. 

EXTENT  OF  PUBLIC  PROSTITUTION.  —  AN  OFFICIAL  STATEMENT  FROM  HON.  JOHN 
A.  KENNEDY,  SUPERINTENDENT  OF  THE  METROPOLITAN  POLICE.  —  HOUSES  OF 

THE  FIRST  CLASS.  —  HOW  THEY  ARE  FILLED.  —  AGENTS  AND  RUNNERS.  — 
STARTLING  FACTS.  —  VICTIMS  FROM  NEW  ENGLAND.  —  A  NIGHT  ENCOUNTER. 
—  A  MAYOR'S  EXPERIENCE.  —  HOPELESS  CLASSES. 

EXTENT    OF   PUBLIC   PROSTITUTION. 

PUBLIC  vice  is  not  as  general  as  is  commonly  sup- 
posed. It  is  one  of  the  things  that  can  be  easily  estimated. 
It  is  not  like  gambling,  done  in  a  corner.  People  who 
keep  houses  of  ill-repute  have  no  motive  to  keep  their 
trade  and  houses  a  secret.  The  police  do  not  meddle 
with  such,  unless  they  are  noisy,  disturb  the  peace,  or 
become  a  public  nuisance.  The  keepers  of  such  resorts 
seek  custom,  and  take  all  possible  pains  to  make  their 
establishments  known.  All  the  public  houses  of  prosti- 
tution are  known  to  the  authorities. 

In  January,  1864,  there  were,  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  five  hundred  and  ninety-nine  houses  of  prostitu- 
tion, of  all  grades,  two  thousand  one  hundred  and 
twenty-three  prostitutes,  and  seventy-two  concert  sa- 
loons of  bad  repute.  In  January,  1866,  there  were 
six  hundred  and  fifteen  houses  of  prostitution,  ninety- 


372  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

nine  houses  of  assignation,  seventy-five  concert  saloons 
of  bad  repute,  two  thousand  six  hundred  and  ninety 
prostitutes,  six  hundred  and  twenty  waiter  girls  of  the 
same  bad  character,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty-seven 
bar-maids,  also  vile  girls.  The  increase  of  1866  over 
1864  is  accounted  for  in  the  difference  between  war 
and  peace.  The  followers  of  the  camp  were  with  the 
army  in  1864.  In  1866  the  soldier  was  at  home,  and 
the  prostitutes  were  thrown  on  the  town.  In  January, 
1867,  there  were  five  hundred  and  sixty-eight  houses 
of  prostitution,  two  thousand  five  hundred  and  sixty- 
one  prostitutes,  thirty-eight  concert  saloons  of  ill  repute, 
three  hundred  and  thirty-six  waiter  girls,  and  the 
average  will  be  about  the  same  for  the  entire  year. 
New  York  has  an  estimated  population  of  from  nine 
hundred  thousand  to  one  million,  and  such  is  the 
extent  of  public  prostitution  in  comparison  to  the 
population ! 

MR.  KENNEDY'S  STATEMENT. 

A  most  extraordinary  statement  was  made  public  of 
the  terrible  ravages  and  extent  of  prostitution  in  New 
York.  Bishop  Simpson,  of  the  Methodist  Church,  stated 
in  Cooper  Institute,  that  the  number  of  public  prosti- 
tutes in  the  city  equalled  in  number  the  membership  of 
the  Methodist  Church.  The  attention  of  Superintend- 
ent Kennedy  was  called  to  these  statements,  and  he 
was  requested  to  say  whether  they  were  true.  In 
answer,  he  writes  as  follows,  which  I  take,  by  per- 
mission, from  the  private  files  of  the  Superintendent's 
department :  — 


IN  NEW  YORK.  373 

"  OFFICE  OF  THE  SUPERINTENDENT  OF  METROPOLITAN  POLICE,  ^ 

300  MULBERRY  STREET, 
NEW  YORK,  January  22,  1866.      ) 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  :  Your  note  of  to-day  is  before  me,  with 
the  printed  sheet  of  the  (  Great  Metropolis  Condensed/ 
inquiring  whether  the  figures  in  the  paragraph  marked 
6  Licentiousness '  can  be  verified.  I  have  to  say  that  I 
have  nothing  in  my  possession  to  sustain  such  mon- 
strous statements.  During  the  past  fall  I  had  a  care- 
ful examination  made  of  the  concert  saloons  in  this 
city,  for  the  purpose  of  using  the  result  in  our  annual 
report ;  which  you  will  find  in  the  leading  dailies  of 
Friday,  January  5,  instant.  At  that  time  we  found 
eleven  hundred  and  ninety-one  waiter  girls  employed 
in  two  hundred  and  twenty-three  concert  and  drinking 
saloons.  Although  much  the  greater  part  of  these  girls 
are  already  prostitutes,  yet  we  have  evidence  they  are 
not  all  such ;  but  continuation  at  the  employment 
is  sure  to  make  them  all  alike.  Previous  to  that  I 
had  not  made  any  census  of  persons  of  that  character 
since  January  24,  1864,  when  the  footing  was  as  fol- 
lows :  — 

"Houses  of  prostitution,  five  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine.  Public  prostitutes,  two  thousand  one  hundred 
and  twenty-three.  Concert  saloons  of  ill  repute,  seventy- 
two.  The  number  of  waiting  girls  was  not  then  taken. 

"  The  newspapers  of  last  week,  in  reporting  Bishop 
Simpson's  speech  delivered  in  St.  Paul's  Church,  made 
him  say  that  there  are  twenty  thousand  prostitutes  in 
New  York.  I  felt  it  to  be  about  time  to  correct  the 
impressions  of  such  well-meaning  men  as  he,  and  on 
Thursday  last  I  sent  out  an  order,  instructing  a  new 


374  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

census  to  be  made.  I  have  nearly  all  the  returns  in, 
and  find  a  much  less  increase  than  I  expected.  A 
large  number  who  have  been  following  the  army 
during  the  war,  very  naturally  have  gravitated  to  this 
city.  Where  else  would  they  go  ?  But  with  all  that, 
the  increase  is  below  my  estimate.  On  the  22d  day  of 
January,  1866,  the  report  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  Houses  of  prostitution,  six  hundred  and  twenty-one. 
Houses  of  assignation,  ninety-nine.  Concert  saloons  of 
ill  repute,  seventy-five.  Public  prostitutes,  two  thousand 
six  hundred  and  seventy.  Waiter  girls  in  concert  and 
drinking  saloons,  seven  hundred  and  forty-seven. 

"  You  will  see  that  houses  of  prostitution  have 
increased  twenty-two  in  two  years,  and  houses  of 
assignation  have  decreased  thirteen.  Concert  saloons 
have  increased  four.  Prostitutes  have  increased  five 
hundred  and  forty-seven.  The  waiter  girls  will  be 
increased  by  the  figures  to  come  in. 

"  As  it  regards  '  other  women/  we  have  no  means  of 
knowing  anything  of  their  number.  That  there  are 
many  of  them  cannot  be  disputed ;  the  number  of 
houses  for  their  accommodation  tells  us  that ;  but  there 
is  no  such  number  as  two  thousand  five  hundred,  you 
may  depend  on  it,  visit  those  places;  and  of  those 
who  do,  the  waiter  girls  furnish  the  larger  portion. 

"So  that,  taking  all  the  public  prostitutes,  and 
all  the  waiter  girls  in  music  saloons  (and  these  we 
have  to  a  unit),  there  are  but  three  thousand  three 
hundred. 

"Medical  estimates  are  humbugs,  from  Dr.  D.  M. 
Reeves  down  to  Dr.  Sanger.  According  to  Dr.  Reeves, 
every  female  in  the  city  over  thirteen  years  of  age 


IN  NEW  YORK.  375 

was  required,  to  fill  up  his  estimate  of  lewd  women, 
and  Sanger  is  but  little  more  reasonable. 
(6  very  respecfully,  yours, 

"JOHN  A.  KENNEDY." 

HOUSES    OF   THE   FIRST    CLASS. 

These  are  few.  No  hotel  is  more  elegantly  furnished. 
Quiet,  order,  and  taste  abound.  The  lady  boarders 
in  these  houses  never  walk  the  streets  nor  solicit 
company.  They  are  selected  for  their  beauty,  grace, 
and  accomplishments.  They  dress  in  great  elegance, 
and  quite  as  decorously  as  females  generally  do  at  balls, 
parties,  or  at  concerts.  Meet  them  in  the  streets,  or  at 
picture  galleries,  or  at  a  fashionable  soiree,  and  there  is 
nothing  about  them  to  attract  attention.  No  person 
who  knows  them  or  their  character  can  in  any  way 
recognize  them  in  public.  These  women  have  their 
pew  in  a  fashionable  church ;  some  attend  Sunday 
school,  and  have  their  own  religious  homes.  Every- 
thing about  the  house  is  elegant.  The  cloor  swings  on 
well-oiled  hinges.  The  bell  is  answered  by  a  colored 
servant,  and  nearly  all  the  servants  are  colored.  They 
are  quiet,  mind  their  own  business,  and  are  known  to 
be  servants.  All  that  grace  and  attraction  can  do  to 
secure  visits  is  employed.  None  but  men  who  can 
afford  to  pay  a  first-class  price  visit  a  first-class  house. 
The  woman  who  is  at  the  head  of  the  establishment  is 
one  that  has  passed  middle  life,  and  is  usually  well 
preserved.  She  bears  some  foreign  name,  and  has  a 
person  about  the  house  that  is  called  her  husband.  It 
is  not  uncommon  for  some  so-called  Count,  Baron,  or 
Consul,  from  some  foreign  power,  to  be,  or  pretend  to 


376  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

be,  the  lawful  guardian  of  the  woman.  If  a  gentleman 
calls,  he  is  at  once  ushered  into  the  parlor.  If  two 
gentlemen  enter  together,  both  are  presented  to  the 
parlor.  But  no  other  gentleman  can  enter  while  they 
remain.  If  any  one  leaves  the  house  from  up  stairs, 
the  parlor  door  is  shut  and  guarded.  No  one  looks  out, 
and  no  one  looks  in.  Such  are  the  inexorable  rules  of 
the  house.  The  visitor  is  received  by  the  madam  in 
whose  name  the  mansion  is  kept.  One  by  one  the 
lady  boarders  drop  in.  Conversation  becomes  general 
and  spirited.  Some  remarks  are  rather  broad.  There 
is  little  to  dispel  the  illusion  that  one  is  on  a  call  at  a 
first-class  boarding-school  or  seminary.  As  the  evening 
wanes,  and  wine  flows,  the  talk  becomes  bolder.  Home, 
early  days,  childhood,  mother,  the  school  of  girlish 
hours,  the  Sabbath,  the  Sunday  school,  the  home  pastor, 
their  style  of  life,  what  the  world  thinks  of  them,  how 
absolutely  they  are  cut  off  from  society,  and  barred  out 
as  if  lepers,  —  are  themes  of  conversation.  Some  are 
girls  of  superior  mind.  Some  have  had  fortunes 
lavished  on  their  education.  Some  can  sing  and  play  ex- 
quisitely. Operas,  songs,  ballads,  snatches  of  hymns,  are 
trolled  off  with  great  skill.  Many  support  their  parents 
in  fine  style.  Some  have  children  that  were  borne  to 
them  when  they  were  happy  wives.  These  children 
have  usually  no  knowledge  of  their  mother's  shame. 
They  are  at  fashionable  board  ing-schools,  and  are  brought 
up  at  great  expense,  and  are  told  that  their  'mother  is 
in  a  foreign  land,  or  is  married  to  a  man  of  wealth. 
Some  mothers  who  are  supported  by  the  infamy  of 
children  know,  and  some  do  not  know,  of  the  great 
degradation  of  their  dear  ones. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  377 


THE  KEEPER. 

The  woman  who  keeps  the  house  keeps  also  a  strict 
watch  on  all  her  boarders.  She  knows  who  comes  and 
goes,  the  sum  that  is  paid,  and  exacts  of  all  her  tribute. 
What  with  board,  and  dues  paid  for  the  privilege  of  the 
house,  the  costliness  of  the  dress  and  ornaments  that 
must  be  wrorn,  the  services  of  a  hair-dresser,  and  cos- 
metics, coach  hire,  and  the  dash  and  display  for  which 
many  of  these  girls  have  left  pleasant  homes,  and  bade 
adieu  to  a  virtuous  life,  and  all  its  honors  and  com- 
forts, they  have  but  little  left.  They  lay  up  generally 
nothing.  Their  hold  on  gay  life  is  very  short,  seldom 
continuing  more  than  three  years,  and  some  breaking 
down  in  six  months.  They  then  commence  the  down- 
ward path  of  the  road  in  which  they  have  entered. 
The  next  step  follows, —  poorer  houses,  meaner  dresses, 
coarser  fare,  rougher  company,  and  stronger  drinks. 
Then  comes  street-walking,  low  brothels,  concert 
saloons,  dance  cellars,  disease,  Blackwell's  Island,  a  few 
months  of  misery,  and  then  death.  The  petted  and 
giddy  creatures,  to  whom  the  flowery  path  and  seduc- 
tive way  is  for  a  month  or  two  so  fascinating,  cannot 
believe  that  rough  winds  can  ever  blow  upon  them,  or 
that  a  rough  word  can  ever  be  spoken,  or  want  and 
sorrow  can  roll  their  black  surges  over  them.  While 
in  their  beauty  and  prime  no  creatures  can  be  more 
tenderly  cared  for.  The  woman  who  is  their  mistress 
has  every  motive  to  treat  them  tenderly.  Their  health 
and  beauty  are  her  capital.  She  makes  merchandise 
of  their  flesh  and  blood.  She  employs  the  best  of 
masters  for  music  and  dances.  The  table  is  loaded 


378  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

with  luxuries.  Nothing  is  too  elegant  or  costly.  The 
health  of  the  girls  is  closely  and  anxiously  watched. 
Their  exercise  and  airings  are  carefully  attended  to. 
They  are  kept  cheerful  and  buoyant.  The  deceived 
and  infatuated  creatures  fancy  that  this  will  always 
last.  But  when  sickness  comes,  and  charms  fade ; 
when  new  comers  are  introduced,  and  the  wan  and 
faded  women  are  put  in  contrast,  the  arrow  enters  into 
their  soul;  when  they  cease  to  be  > attractive,  and  call 
visitors  to  the  house  no  more,  the  door  is  opened  and 
they  are  told  to  go.  No  tears,  no  pleas,  avail.  Women 
that  are  moved  by  tears  do  not  dwell  under  such  roofs. 
Out  these  poor  girls  go,  without  a  penny.  Almost 
always  they  are  brought  in  debt,  and  so  much  of  their 
finery  as  will  do  for  the  new  comers  is  retained.  For 
the  expelled  there  is  no  redress.  The  pavement  is  her 
home.  The  glare  of  the  druggist's  window  suggests 
poison.  The  ripple  of  the  black  Hudson  suggests 
suicide.  Some  one  picks  her  up  on  the  pave  at  night, 
and  her  low  walk  with  the  low  women  of  her  class 
commences. 

HOW    THEY   ARE   FILLED. 

The  short  life  and  brief  career  of  women  who  fill 
what  are  known  as  first-class  boarding-houses  for  young- 
ladies  is  one  of  the  facts  of  which  there  is  no  dispute. 
Officers  whose  duties  take  them  occasionally  to  these 
places  say  that  once  in  about  two  or  three  months  the 
company  wholly  changes ;  and  when  they  ask  for 
persons  whom  they  saw  on  their  last  visit,  an  indefinite 
answer  is  given,  and  an  unwillingness  manifested  to 
tell  what  has  become  of  their  associates.  Some  feign 
reform,  many  die  of  sickness,  by  the  hand  of  criminal 


IN  NEW  YORK.  379 

practitioner,  by  suicide;  many  begin  the  dark  tramp 
down  that  path  that  ends  in  death.  We  know  from 
what  source  comes  the  supply  for  low  stews,  vile  brothels, 
concert  saloons,  and  dance  houses ;  for  where  the  beast- 
ly and  drunken  resort,  multitudes  can  be  found.  But 
from  whence  comes  this  unceasing  supply  of  brilliant, 
well-educated,  accomplished,  attractive,  and  beautiful 
young  girls  ?  They  are  found,  as  they  are  wanted,  for 
the  houses  of  fashionable  infamy.  They  come,  many 
of  them,  from  the  best  homes  in  the  land  ;  from  care- 
ful parentage  and  pious  families  ;  from  fashionable 
boarding-schools ;  from  seminaries  of  learning  ;  from 
Sunday  schools ;  from  the  rural  cottages  of  Maine 
and  Vermont ;  from  Chicago,  Kichmond,  and  California ; 
from  all  parts  of  the  civilized  world. 

AGENTS    AND    RUNNERS. 

Men  and  women  are  employed  in  this  nefarious  work 
as  really  as  persons  are  round  the  country  to  hunt  up 
likely  horses;  and  when  the  victim  is  uncommonly 
attractive  the  pay  is  large.  No  system  is  better  ar- 
ranged with  bankers,  express-men,  runners,  and  agents. 
No  place  is  so  distant,  no  town  so  obscure,  that  these 
panderers  do  not  enter  it.  They  are  at  concerts,  on 
the  railroad,  at  theatres,  at  church,  at  fashionable 
resorts  in  the  summer,  and  at  seminary  graduations. 
They  hang  about  hotels,  under  pretence  of  being 
strangers  to  New  York;  they  get  acquainted  with 
young  lady  visitors,  invite  them  to  church,  to  a  walk, 
to  the  opera,  and,  when  confidence  is  gained,  they  are 
invited  to  call  at  the  house  of  an  acquaintance ;  and, 
after  a  pleasant  evening,  they  wake  up  in  the  morning 


380  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

to  know  that  they  have  been  drugged  and  ruined,  and 
that  their  parents  are  in  despair.  In  some  seminaries 
of  learning  in  this  city  letters  are  constantly  exchanged, 
signals  swing  out  of  the  blinds  by  means  of  ribbons  of 
different  hues,  and  appointments  made  and  kept.  If  a 
daughter  is  missing  from  New  York,  or  from  a  radius 
of  twenty  miles  around,  the  police  know  usually  where 
to  look  for  the  erring  child,  if  she  has  not  eloped. 

THRILLING   CASES. 

In  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  these  houses  of  bad 
resort  there  is,  at  this  moment,  a  young  woman  of 
surpassing  beauty.  Her  form  is  queenly.  She  would 
make  a  sensation  in  any  fashionable  soiree  or  watering- 
place  in  the  land.  She  dresses  in  elegant  style  and 
with  exquisite  taste.  Her  complexion  is  alabaster ; 
her  hair  raven  black,  flowing  in  natural  ringlets.  Her 
voice  is  superb,  and  as  a  singer  she  could  command  a 
large  salary.  On  the  boards  of  a  theatre  she  would 
move  without  a  rival.  Her  accomplishments  are  varied. 
She  can  sing  with  ease  and  skill  the  most  difficult 
music  of  the  best  masters.  She  can  paint  and  embroider, 
and  the  specimens  of  her  skill  are  exhibited  to  her  ad- 
mirers at  the  house  where  she  resides.  She  has  a 
finished  education,  and  could  fill  and  adorn  any  station 
in  life.  She  has  a  parentage  the  most  respected,  who 
reside  among  the  noble  of  New  England.  Their  repute 
and  family  honor,  till  now,  have  been  without  a  stain. 
Apparently  happy  in  her  home,  and  virtuous  and 
modest,  she  left  the  Seminary,  where  she  had  nearly 
reached  the  honor  of  graduation,  and  where  she  was  at 
the  head  of  the  school,  and  one  night  was  not  to  be 


IN  NEW    YORK.  381 

found.  Her  absence  was  the  cause  of  great  distress. 
Months  passed,  and  no  knowledge  of  her  residence  was 
obtained.  At  length  the  sad  fact  was  revealed  that 
she  was  a  lady  boarder  in  a  house  of  ill  repute  in  New 
York.  When  she  entered  that  abode,  she.  resolutely 
shut  the  door  in  the  face  of  all  who  knew  and  loved 
her.  Father,  mother,  sister,  friends,  besieged  the  door 
in  vain.  Deaf  to  all  entreaties,  and  hardened  to  sobs 
and  tears,  she  refused  to  look  on  the  face  of 
the  mother  who  bore  her,  and  those  to  whom  she  is 
still  dear.  To  all  she  had  but  one  answer, —  "  Think  of 
me  only  as  one  that  is  dead."  Yet  she  will  talk  of 
home,  and  dear  ones  of  olden  days  ;  will  sigh,  and  wipe 
the  tear  away,  if  any  one  seems  to  have  a  heart  of 
sympathy.  But  the  mystery  of  her  course ;  what  led 
her  to  fling  away  the  great  gifts  God  gave  her ;  how 
she  came  to  know  of  that  way  of  life ;  what  her  first 
wrong  step  was ;  who  aided  her  in  her  bad  descent ; 
why  she  does  not  fly  from  the  life  she  evidently  loathes, 
and  find  refuge  in  the  home  of  her  childhood,  to  her 
mother's  arms,  that  are  still  wide  open  to  receive  her, 
—  all  this  is  a  secret  locked  in  her  own  bosom.  Soon 
her  sunny  day-dream  will  close.  The  bleak  winds  of 
winter  will  blow  on  that  form  trained  to  tenderness 
and  reared  in  delicacy,  and  her  feet  will  stumble  on  the 
dark  mountains,  with  no  one  to  help  or  heed  her  bitter 
cry. 

STARTLING   FACTS. 

There  is  another  case  sadder  and  more  mysterious 
than  the  one  just  related.  In  one  of  the  Broadway 
houses  can  be  seen  a  young  lady  about  seventeen,  but 
so  fragile  and  so  girlish  that  she  seems  scarcely  twelve. 


382  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

Small  and  genteel  in  figure,  she  appears  only  a  child. 
She  has  a  remarkable  forehead  of  great  breadth,  an 
eye  searching  and  keen,  and  her  smartness  and  talent 
are  marked.  She  is  the  belle  of  the  house,  and,  looking 
on  her,  one  can  easily  see  —  what  was  the  fact  —  that 
she  was  the  sunshine  of  her  home.  She  belongs  to 
New  York.  Her  father  and  mother  are  persons  of 
rare  intelligence,  of  unquestioned  piety,  and  high 
social  position.  They  are  rich,  and  live  in  good  style. 
On  this  child  they  lavished  the  tenderest  care.  No 
money  was  spared  to  give  her  a  complete  and  polished 
education.  Her  voice  is  superb,  and  her  execution 
marvellous.  Her  home  was  not  sad  and  hard,  but 
sunny.  She  was  the  morning  light  and  evening  star 
of  the  fireside  which  she  adorned.  She  was  the  pride 
of  her  parents,  the  ornament  of  the  social  circle  that 
was  proud  to  call  her  companion.  From  her  youth 
she  was  trained  in  the  Scriptures.  At  the  family  altar 
daily  she  was  accustomed  to  kneel,  and  till  she  left  the 
roof  of  her  mother  she  had  attended  Sunday  school 
from  her  childhood.  She  seemed  to  have  no  sorrow 
nor  cause  of  grief.  Her  company  was  unexceptionable. 
No  open  act  of  hers,  and  no  word  uttered,  betrayed 
anything  but  a  virtuous  heart  and  a  pious  life.  One 
afternoon  she  did  not  come  home  from  Sunday  school 
as  usual.  The  evening  came,  night  rolled  its  heavy 
moments  along,  and  the  darling  came  not.  Agony  laid 
the  mother  on  her  bed,  helpless.  The  father  searched 
New  York  over,  but  the  lost  one  could  not  be  found. 
To  the  suggestion  of  shrewd  detectives,  that  perhaps 
she  would  be  found  in  a  house  of  low  resort,  the  family 
could  only  utter  their  horror.  Like  Jacob,  they  knew 


IN  NEW  YORK.  383 

their  darling  must  be  dead.  Leading  a  life  of  infamy  ? 
Never !  With  a  likeness  of  the  missing  daughter,  and 
an  accurate  description,  the  matter-of-fact  officers 
started  on  their  search.  The  first  house  they  entered 
they  saw  a  young  girl  who  resembled  the  lost  one.  On 
inquiry,  they  found  she  came  to  the  house  on  Sunday 
afternoon  ;  told  her  name ;  said  she  came  from  a  Sun- 
day school ;  hung  up  her  bonnet  and  cloak,  as  if  they 
were  to  be  trophies  to  the  goddess  of  infamy  ;  demanded 
and  received  garments  suited  to  her  new  life ;  and, 
coming  fresh  from  the  Sunday  school,  entered  on  her 
career  of  infamy.  Satisfied  that  the  lost  child  had 
been  found,  the  officer  said  to  the  father,  a  Come  and 
see  if  this  be  thy  child  or  no."  With  a  heavy  heart 
and  unsteady  step  the  forlorn  and  bereaved  father  fol- 
lowed the  detective.  He  shrank  from  the  entrance,  as 
if  the  portals  really  led  to  hell.  The  daughter  met 
him  at  the  door,  flung  her  arms  about  him,  and  gave 
him  a  passionate  kiss.  Then  she  seated  herself,  with 
hands  folded,  head  declined,  and  eyes  fastened  on  the 
floor.  She  heard  all  that  was  said;  she  spake  no 
word ;  made  no  explanation ;  confessed  no  act ;  re- 
vealed no  temptation,  and  refused  to  explain  why  she 
had  adopted  her  new  course  of  life.  To  all  entreaties, 
tears,  and  prayers  she  was  indifferent.  Nothing  could 
move  her.  Her  mother  came  to  see  her,  and  the  girl 
threw  herself  on  the  bosom  where  her  head  had  so 
often  lain  in  joy  and  sorrow,  and  in  a  passionate 
burst  of  anguish  shed  scalding  and  bitter  tears.  To  all 
inquiries  how  she  came  to  that  place,  and  who  led  her 
astray,  she  would  answer  not  a  word.  To  all  entreaties 
to  come  home,  and  all  should  be  forgotten  and  for- 


384  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

given,  she  made  but  one  reply,  —  "  0,  mother,  it  is  too 
late  !  too  late !  "  But  from  the  house  where  she  was 
she  refused  to  move.  Once  in  a  while  she  goes 
home,  hangs  up  her  hat  and  shawl  on  the  old  nail? 
throws  herself  on  the  bosom  of  her  mother,  and  weeps 
and  sobs.  But  when  the  time  comes  for  her  to  go,  she 
wipes  away  her  tears,  puts  on  her  hat,  kisses  her  mother 
a  good  bye,  and  departs.  Prayers,  tears,  promises, 
offers  of  reward,  all  have  been  used  in  vain.  In  her 
home  of  infamy  she  often  talks  of  her  girlish  days ;  of 
her  superintendent  and  teacher.  She  speaks  of  the 
church  that  she  attended  as  "  our  church ;  "  names  the 
pastor  with  terms  of  endearment,  and  makes  special 
mention  of  the  missionary  of  the  church,  who  is  still  in 
the  field,  to  whom  she  seemed  to  be  specially  attached. 
And  these  are  but  specimens  of  what  can  be  found  in 
New  York. 

VICTIMS    FROM   NEW  ENGLAND. 

A  very  large  number  of  the  girls  on  the  town  come 
from  New  England.  Maine  furnishes  the  largest  share, 
as  the  statistics  of  prostitution  show. .  Many  can  find 
no  employment  at  home,  and  seek  this  great  city  for 
something  to  do.  They  have  no  idea  how  all  ranks  of 
labor  are  crowded,  nor  how  hard  it  is  to  find  respecta- 
ble employment ;  how  few  can  be  trusted  ;  what  hot- 
beds of  temptation  factories  are,  and  places  where  a 
large  number  of  young  girls  find  work.  Many  are 
tempted,  and  fall  in  their  homes.  They  know  that 
there  is  no  mercy  for  them  there.  Their  mother  and 
sisters  will  abandon  them,  and  so  they  flee  to  a  place 
in  which  they  can  hide  in  the  solitude  of  the  multi- 
tude. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  385 


A   NIGHT     ENCOUNTER. 

Two  gentlemen,  of  the  highest  respectability,  were 
walking  on  Broadway  quite  late  one  night,  and  they 
were  accosted  by  a  young  girl  who  seemed  less  than 
thirteen.  She  was  thinly  clad,  and  was  in  feeble 
health.  The  two  gentlemen  commenced  a  conversa- 
tion with  the  girl,  and  learned  from  her  lips  this  story. 
She  was  from  the  State  of  Vermont,  and  of  good 
parentage.  Her  father  was  a  farmer,  and  her  mother 
and  family  stood  high  in  the  town  in  which  they  lived. 
A  young  man  from  the  city  came  to  pass  the  winter 
near  her  home.  Singing  schools  and  meetings  brought 
him  into  her  society.  He  declared  his  intentions  to  be 
honorable,  and  made  proposals  for  marriage.  Her 
parents  knew  little  of  the  young  man,  and  were  not 
friendly  to  his  attentions.  The  young  lovers  met  iii 
secret,  and  finally  fled  from  the  town.  Her  day-dream 
of  love  soon  ended,  and,  deserted,  she  went  on  the  town. 
She  loathed  the  life  she  led.  But  want  and  starvation 
were  on  the  one  hand,  and  infamy  on  the  other.  She 
had  led  her  life  but  a  few  weeks,  and  had  sought  for 
work  and  a  chance  to  make  an  honest  living,  but  in 
vain.  Her  parents  knew  not  of  her  whereabouts,  nor 
did  the  widow  with  whom  she  boarded  know  that  she 
was  leading  a  life  of  infamy.  She  led  the  gentlemen 
to  the  door  of  a  very  quiet,  respectable  house,  and  told 
them  that  was  her  home.  They  promised  to  call  and 
see  her  the  next  evening,  and  aid  her  to  escape  from 
the  life  she  abhorred.  They  called  at  the  time  pro- 
posed, and  were  conducted  to  the  room  designated.  It 
was  in  complete  order.  By  the  side  of  the  girl  was  a 
25 


386  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

small  table,  and  on  a  white  cloth  lay  a  small  Bible,  the 
gift,  she  said,  of  her  mother ;  and  she  stated  that  she 
never  lay  down  to  rest  at  night  till,  as  in  her  childhood's 
happy  home  days,  she  had  read  a  portion  of  God's 
word.  She  talked  calmly  about  her  position  and  life, 
but  it  was  the  calmness  of  despair,  with  the  tone  of 
one  whose  destiny  was  settled,  and  whose  lot  was 
inevitably  fixed.  To  all  entreaty,  she  replied,  "  It  is 
now  too  late.  I  could  not  endure  the  cold  pity  of  my 
mother,  or  the  scorn  of  my  sisters,  or  the  taunts  of 
my  former  associates.  To  my  bitter  tears  and  burning 
confessions  they  would  give  an  incredulous  ear,  and 
among  them  I  must  ever  walk  a  lost  woman.  I  know 
that  my  life  will  be  a  short  one.  My  health  is  very 
poor,  and  growing  worse  from  day  to  day.  I  am  not 
fitted  for  the  life  I  lead.  Let  me  alone.  To  all  who 
once  loved  me  I  am  as  one  dead.  I  shall  die  alone, 
and  have  a  pauper's  burial." 

A  MAYOR'S  EXPERIENCE. 

One  of  the  former  mayors  of  New  York,  a  gentleman 
of  warm  heart  and  great  benevolence,  had  a  case 
brought  before  him  while  in  office.  It  was  that  of 
quite  a  young  girl,  intelligent  and  well  educated,  and 
not  sixteen  years  of  age.  She  would  not  tell  her 
name,  or  reveal  the  name  of  the  town  in  which  her 
parents  resided.  The  mayor  resolved  to  save  her  if  he 
could.  He  tried  to  persuade  her  to  abandon  her  life, 
get  some  honest  employment,  and  make  a  new  stand 
in  a  virtuous  course.  He  used  all  the  arguments, 
reasons,  and  motives  that  he  could  command.  With 
great  coolness  she  replied  to  them  all,  "  I  know  all 


IN  NEW  YORK.  387 

you  say  —  the  deep  degradation  into  which  I  have 
fallen.  But  I  have  no  relief,  no  home,  no  hand  to  help 
me  rise.  I  am  a  good  musician ;  I  am  a  neat  and  com- 
petent seamstress.  Twice  I  have  gained  a  situation, 
have  resolved  to  amend  my  life,  and  have  behaved  my- 
self with  circumspection.  But  in  each  case  some  one 
that  knew  my  former  life  has  told  the  story  of  my  past 
degradation,  and  so  hurled  me  back  to  infamy.  You 
have  daughters,  have  you  not  ?  "  she  said  to  the  mayor. 
"  I  have,"  was  the  answer.  "  Will  you  trust  me  as  a  seam- 
stress in  your  family  with  what  you  now  know  of  me  ? 
Would  you  feel  safe  to  allow  me  to  be  the  companion 
of  those  daughters  after  the  life  I  have  led  ? "  The 
mayor  hesitated.  With  great  bitterness  and  much 
feeling,  she  replied,  "  Don't  speak.  I  know  what  you 
would  say.  I  don't  blame  you  ;  but  if,  with  your  kind, 
generous  heart,  with  your  desire  to  do  me  good  and 
save  me,  you  can't  trust  me,  who  will  ? "  She  went 
out  to  continue  in  that  way  that  so  soon  ends  in  a 
black  and  hopeless  night. 

HOPELESS    CLASSES. 

Hopeless  indeed  seems  the  condition  of  fallen  woman. 
Men  can  reform  ;  society  welcomes  them  back  to  the 
path  of  virtue  ;  a  veil  is  cast  over  their  conduct,  and 
their  vows  of  amendment  are  accepted,  and  their 
promises  to  reform  hailed  with  great  delight.  But  alas 
for  man's  victims  !  For  them  there  are  no  calls  to  come 
home,  no  sheltering  arm,  no  acceptance  of  confessions 
and  promises  to  amend.  We  may  call  them  the  hope- 
less classes.  For  all  offence  beside  we  have  hope. 
The  drunkard  can  dash  down  his  cup,  and  the  murderer 


388  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

repent  on  the  gallows.  But  for  fallen  woman  there 
seems  to  be  no  space  for  repentance  ;  for  her  there  is 
no  hope  and  no  prayer.  How  seldom  we  attempt  to 
reach  and  rescue  !  and  for  her  where  is  the  refuge  ? 

Every  form  of  temptation  is  put  in  her  path  —  hard 
and  cruel  homes,  a  serpent  for  a  lover,  no  work,  love 
of  display,  promises  of  marriage,  mock  marriage,  and 
strong  drink.  I  know  a  woman  in  this  city,  who,  when 
a  young  girl,  was  led  from  her  home  in  Massachusetts 
by  a  man  whose  name  is  well  known  in  political  circles. 
He  solemnly  promised  to  marry  her,  and  I  have  seen  his 
written  promise  of  marriage.  The  parties  came  to 
New  York,  and  a  mock  marriage  was  celebrated  ;  and 
a  mock  minister  was  called  in,  and  the  Book  of 
Common  Prayer  was  used.  The  parties  passed  as  man 
and  wife  for  years,  and  received  company  as  such. 
The  .woman  bore  the  name  of  the  man  with  whom  she 
lived.  Ten  years  passed  away.  Her  husband  was  a 
leading  politician  in  the  land,  and  began  to  be  much 
absent  from  home.  One  day  a  lawyer  of  eminence 
called  on  her,  in  company  with  a  leading  citizen,  and 
told  the  astounded  woman  that  the  man  with  whom 
she  was  living  was  not  her  husband,  that  the  mar- 
riage was  a  mock  one,  that  her  husband  was  about  to 
marry  a  woman  of  fortune  and  position,  and  would 
never  see  her  again,  and  that  they  had  come  to  make 
terms  with  her  and  settle  the  whole  case.  Frightened 
and  alone,  with  no  one  to  rely  on  or  give  advice,  with 
starvation  staring  her  in  the  face,  she  made  the  best 
settlement  she  could.  In  later  times  she  sought  re- 
dress in  the  courts.  But  the  cunning  deceiver  had 


IN  NEW   YORK.  389 

made  it  impossible  to  prove  any  marriage,  and  her 
case  failed.  He  was  worth  a  handsome  fortune,  lived 
in  grand  style,  and  left  the  poor  child,  whom  he  took 
from  her  father's  home,  and  so  foully  wronged,  to  eke 
out  a  scanty  and  insufficient  livelihood  by  selling 
books  in  the  streets  of  New  York. 


390  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XLIV. 

PANEL-THIEVING. 

AS   A   SYSTEM. — THE   PANEL-HOUSE. — ROBBERY. 

AS    A    SYSTEM. 

THIS  system  of  robbery,  so  common  in  New  York, 
blends  prostitution  and  robbery.  It  is  made  profitable, 
and  is  not  easy  of  detection.  Parties  need  but  little 
furniture  or  capital.  They  seldom  stay  long  in  a  place. 
Their  safety  demands  frequent  removals.  One  or  two 
cribs  —  as  these  places  are  called  —  are  quite  notorious, 
and  have  been  kept  in  the  same  spot  for  a  number  of 
years.  Panel-thieving  is  reduced  to  a  system,  and  on 
the  observance  of  the  system  the  success  depends. 
The  women  who  are  employed  in  this  department  of 
crime  are  mostly  intelligent,  neat,  and  good-looking 
negro  or  mulatto  women.  Men  who  have  been  robbed 
do  not  usually  care  to  have  it  known  that  they  have 
been  keeping  company  with  a  colored  woman,  espe- 
cially if  they  happen  to  be  well-to-do  men  of  family  in 
some  rural  town.  So  they  will  not  be  likely  to  press 
the  matter  with  the  police.  They  will  bluster  and 
make  a  noise.  But  when  their  name,  residence,  and 
business  are  taken  down,  and  they  find  that  all  their 


IN  NEW   YORK.  391 

night  frolic  is  to  come  out  in  the  public  print,  they  let 
the  prosecution  go.     Panel-thieves  count  on  this. 


THE    PANEL-HOUSE. 


The  place  selected  is  usually  a  basement  in  a  quiet 
neighborhood,  the  more  respectable  the  better.  Often 
panel-thieves  hire  a  basement.  The  party  who  rents 
it,  or  who  lives  in  the  house,  does  not  know  who  his 
neighbor  is.  But  usually  it  is  for  purposes  we  will  name 
by  and  by.  All  concerned  are  interested  in  the  game. 
The  room  is  papered  and  a  panel  cut  in  the  paper,  or 
one  of  the  panels  is  fitted  to  slide  softly.  The  room 
contains  a  bed,  a  single  chair,  and  a  few  articles  for 
chamber  use,  —  the  whole  not  worth  over  fifty  dollars. 
The  bolts,  and  bars,  and  locks  are  peculiar,  and  so 
made  as  to  seem  to  lock  on  the  inside,  though  they  do 
not.  They  really  fasten  on  the  outside.  And  while 
the  visitor  imagines  he  has  locked  all  comers  out,  he  is 
really  locked  in  himself,  and  cannot  escape  till  he  has 
been  robbed.  A  rural  gentleman  from  the  country 
leaves  his  hotel  about  ten  o'clock  at  night  to  see  the 
sights.  He  meets  a  neatly-dressed  and  fine-looking 
woman,  with  whom  he  has  a  talk.  She  has  a  sad  story 
to  tell  of  domestic  cruelty.  She  has  been  driven  to  the 
street,  and  never  accosted  a  gentleman  before,  and 
would  not  now,  did  not  want  drive  her  to  it.  The 
country  gentleman  is  captivated.  His  sympathies  are 
touched.  She  incidentally  names  a  modest  sum  for  her 
company.  He  proposes  a  walk  to  look  at  her  house. 
On  the  way  the  woman  details  some  of  .her  personal 
history,  and  in  return  finds  out  where  her  companion 
is  from,  and  whether  he  has  money  worth  the  trouble 


392  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

of  taking  him  home  to  pluck.  She  keeps  up  the  role  of 
an  abused  woman  on  her  first  street  walk,  and  the  man 
becomes  quite  social.  The  house  is  reached,  is  quite 
respectable,  and  in  a  decent  neighborhood ;  so  the 
parties  enter.  A  plainly  furnished  basement  is  seen, 
but  all  is  neat,  cosy,  and  tidy.  As  the  woman  takes  off 
her  bonnet  and  shawl,  she  is  seen  to  be  dressed  plainly, 
but  with  good  taste.  The  door  is  carefully  bolted,  or 
supposed  to  be.  The  price  agreed  on  is  paid  in 
advance,  partly  to  see  how  full  the  wallet  is  stuffed, 
partly  that  the  man  may  have  no  occasion  to  take  out 
his  wallet  till  he  gets  to  his  hotel,  or  at  least  gets  out 
of  the  house,  for  he  might  find  out  that  he  had  been 
robbed,  and  so  make  trouble.  He  must  put  his  clothes 
on  the  chair,  for  there  is  no  other  spot  except  the  floor 
to  lay  them.  The  chair  is  put  quite  a  distance  from 
the  bed,  so  that  the  robbery  can  be  safely  committed. 

ROBBERY. 

At  a  given  signal  the  panel  slides,  and  the  confed- 
erate creeps  in  on  his  hands  and  knees,  and  searches 
the  pants.  All  the  money  is  not  taken ;  for  this  rea- 
son none  of  the  parties  are  brought  before  the  courts ; 
the  fact  will  appear  that  the  man  had  some  money  left 
—  a  thing  not  credible  if  robbed  in  a  panel-house,  and 
he  will  find  it  difficult  to  convince  the  judge  that  he 
did  not  spend  the  missing  money  when  he  was  drunk. 
Another  reason  for  leaving  some  money  is,  that  the 
bulk  in  the  pocket-book  must  not  be  so  reduced  as  to 
excite  suspicion.  When  quite  a  bulk  is  removed,  care- 
fully prepared  packages,  about  the  size,  are  put  in  the 
place  of  the  money.  When  the  robbery  has  been  com- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  393 

pleted,  and  the  thief  has  crept  out  of  the  room  and 
closed  the  panel,  a  loud  knocking  is  heard  at  the  door. 
The  woman  starts  up  in  fright,  antj  announces  the 
arrival  of  her  husband.  The  man  hastily  dresses,  and 
makes  his  escape  from  the  front  basement  door.  In 
his  flight  he  finds,  by  feeling,  that  his  pocket-book  is  all 
right.  He  reaches  his  hotel,  and  usually  not  till  morn- 
ing does  he  know  that  he  has  been  robbed.  His  first 
step  is  to  seek  the  residence  of  the  panel-thief  and 
demand  his  money.  But  how  can  he  find  it  ?  The 
woman,  to  escape  detection,  led  the  man  through  by- 
lanes  and  dark  alleys.  And  should  he  find  the  house, 
he  could  not  identify  it.  If  he  could,  he  would  not  find 
the  woman  or  her  confederate.  If  the  house  was  a 
large  one,  all  the  furniture  in  the  room  will  be  changed. 
It  will  probably  be  the  abode  of  a  physician,  who,  indig- 
nant at  the  attempt  to  convict  him  of  panel-thieving, 
and  to  ruin  his  practice,  will  threaten  to  shut  the 
libeller  up  in  the  Tombs.  As  a  last  resort,  the  victim 
will  go  to  the  police ;  but  as  the  woman  is  at  Brooklyn, 
Harlem,  Jersey  City,  or  some  new  abode  far  from  the 
robbery,  nothing  can  be  done,  and  the  man  must  bear 
the  loss.  And  so  the  panel  game  goes  on  from  year 
to  year. 


394  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XLV. 

GAMBLING-HOUSES    OF    THE    FIRST 

CLASS. 

LOCATION. — ARRANGEMENT  AND  TABLE. GAMBLING-ROOM. HOW  THE  PLAY 

GOES  ON.  —  THE  COMPANY.  —  JOHN    MORRISSEY's    HOUSE.  —  HIS    START.  

FINDS    EMPLOYMENT.  BEGINS    AS    A    GAMBLER.  —  AT     SARATOGA.  —  GAM- 
BLING  AS   A   TRADE. 

LOCATION. 

IN  the  city  of  New  York  there  are  not  more  than  a 
dozen  first-class  gambling-houses.  But  these  are  superb 
in  all  their  appointments.  The  location  is  aristocratic 
and  easy  to  be  found.  A  brown-stone  front  or  a  marble 
house  is  selected,  and  kept  in  great  style.  Such  a 
house  is  usually  distinguished  from  a  first-class  dwelling 
only  by  a  broad  silver  plate  on  the  door.  Heavy  blinds 
or  curtains,  kept  drawn  all  day,  hide  the  inmates  from 
prying  eyes.  If  one  wishes  to  enter,  he  rings  the  door 
bell.  This  is  answered  by  a  finely-dressed  colored 
porter,  for  all  the  servants  are  black.  They  are  trained 
to  their  duties,  are  silent  and  polite.  To  your  saluta- 
tion the  porter  responds,  "Who  do  you  wish  to  see?" 
You  name  the  proprietor  or  a  friend,  and  are  at  once 
invited  to  the  parlor.  The  elegance  of  the  establish- 
ment dazzles  you.  The  doors  are  of  rosewood.  The 
most  costly  carpet  that  can  be  imported  lies  on  the  floor. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  395 

Mirrors  of  magnificent  dimensions  extend  from  the 
ceiling  to  the  floor.  No  tawdry  frescoing,  but  costly 
paintings  by  the  first  artists,  adorn  the  walls  and  cover 
the  ceiling.  The  richest  of  gold,  gilt,  and  rosewood 
furniture  in  satin  and  velvet  abound. 

ARRANGEMENT   AND    TABLE. 

The  basement  of  the  house  is  devoted  to  domestic 
labors.  The  front  parlor  is  used  for  dining.  The  din- 
ner is  served  at  six  o'clock.  Nothing  in  New  York  can 
equal  the  elegance  of  the  table.  It  is  spread  with 
silver  and  gold  plate,  costly  china  ware,  and  glass  of 
exquisite  cut,  and  the  viands  embrace  all  the  luxuries  of 
the  season  served  up  in  the  richest  style.  Fruits,  home 
and  foreign,  fill  the  sideboard,  and  wines  and  costly 
liquors  are  to  be  had  for  the  asking.  Among  the 
keepers  of  the  first-class  gaming-houses  there  is  a  con- 
stant rivalry  to  excel  in  the  matter  of  dinners  and  the 
manner  the  table  is  spread.  The  rooms  are  open  to 
all  comers.  All  are  welcome  to  the  table  arid  side- 
board. No  questions  are  asked,  no  price  is  paid,  no 
one  is  solicited  to  drink  or  play.  A  man  can  eat,  drink, 
look  on,  and  go  away  if  he  pleases.  But  it  must  be 
profitable  business,  or  men  who  a  few  years  ago  were 
drunken  prize-fighters  could  not  now  be  millionnaires. 
A  man  who  does  not  spend  one  dime  in  the  house  can 
call  for  the  choicest  wines,  and  drink  what  he  will,  as 
freely  as  the  man  that  leaves  thousands  at  the  bank. 


396  •  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 


GAMBLING-ROOM. 

The  gaming-room  is  usually  the  third  one,  erected 
in  the  yard  for  the  purpose,  surmounted  by  a  dome, 
through  which  the  light  comes,  as  the  walls  are  solid. 
In  this  room  is  a  spacious  sideboard,  crowded  with  the 
choicest  and  most  costly  liquors.  As  with  the  dinner, 
so  with  the  sideboard  :  all  are  made  welcome.  One  has 
but  to  call,  and  the  prompt  servant  serves  you  at  your 
will.  The  roulette  table  is  spread,  and  the  "  lay-out,"  as 
it  is  called,  is  placed  on  the  faro  table.  The  keeper  of 
the  bank  and  the  dealer  of  the  cards  are  in  their 
places.  The  cards  are  shuffled  in  a  patent  silver  case, 
got  up  in  expensive  style.  Men,  players,  table,  the 
lay-out,  the  cue,  box,  and  all  the  paraphernalia  of 
gamblery,  are  in  the  first  style  and  most  costly  order. 

HOW    THE    GAME    GOES    ON. 

In  front  of  a  table  covered  with  green  cloth,  with  a 
pad  before  him,  the  dealer  shuffles  his  cards.  Some 
play  lightly;  they  lose  five  or  ten  dollars  of  an  evening, 
then  stop.  Many  play  deep,  and  losses  are  heavy.  From 
one  thousand  to  a  hundred  thousand  dollars  often 
change  hands  in  a  night.  Merchants,  bank  men,  and 
clerks  often  play  till  they  lose  all,  arid  put  up  watch 
and  jewelry,  pledge  their  salaries,  incur  debts  of  honor, 
that  must  be  paid.  Defalcation,  peculation,  fraud, 
theft,  forgery,  follow  a  visit  to  the  hells  in  high  life. 
Kecently  one  man  lost  three  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars. There  is  at  present  a  man  in  this  city  who  "  plays 
system,"  as  it  is  called.  He  has  had  such  a  run  of  luck 
that  he  broke  the  bank  of  one  of  the  first  houses,  and 


IN  NEW   YORK.  397 

carried  away  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  one 
night.  All  these  gamblers  are  fast  men.  They  spend 
all  they  win  on  their  vices,  passions,  or  in  play.  When 
they  are  low,  they  visit  the  low  gaming  dens  of  the 
city,  and  if  their  fortune  in  any  way  changes,  they 
hasten  back  and  try  their  luck  again  in  a  first-class 
house.  Many  gamblers  do  not  lay  up  five  dollars  in 
five  years. 

THE   COMPANY. 

None  but  men  who  behave  like  gentlemen  are 
allowed  the  entree  of  the  rooms.  Play  runs  on  by  the 
hou%  and  not  a  word  spoken  save  the  low  words  of  the 
parties  that  conduct  the  game.  But  for  the  implements 
of  gaming  there  is  little  to  distinguish  the  room  from  a 
a  first-class  club-house.  Gentlemen  well  known  on 
'change  and  in  public  life,  merchants  of  a  high  grade, 
whose  names  adorn  benevolent  and  charitable  associa- 
tions, are  seen  in  these  rooms,  reading  and  talking. 
Some  only  drink  a  glass  of  wine,  walk  about,  arid 
look  on  the  play  with  apparently  but  little  curiosity. 
The  great  gamblers,  besides  those  of  the  professional 
ring,  are  men  accustomed  to  the  excitement  of  the 
Stock  Board.  They  gamble  all  day  in  Wall  and  Broad 
Streets,  and  all  night  on  Broadway.  To  one  not  ac- 
customed to  such  a  sight,  it  is  rather  startling  to  see 
men  whose  names  stand  high  in  church  and  state,  who 
are  well  dressed  and  leaders  of  fashion,  in  these  notable 
saloons,  as  if  they  were  at  home.  The  play  is  usually 
from  five  to  twenty-five  dollars.  A  stock  of  checks  is 
purchased,  and  these  played  out,  the  respectable  player 
quits  the  table.  But  old  and  young,  men  in  established 


398  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

business  and    mere  boys,  are  seen  night  after  night 
yielding  to  the  terrible  fascination  of  play. 


JOHN  MORRISSEY'S  HOUSE. 


A  few  years  ago  John  Morrissey  was  a  resident  of 
Troy.  He  kept  a  small  drinking  saloon,  of  the  lowest 
character.  It  was  the  resort  of  the  low  prize-fighters, 
gamblers,  thieves,  and  dissolute  persons  of  all  degrees. 
So  low,  and  dissolute,  and  disreputable,  was  the  place, 
that  it  was  closed  by  the  authorities.  With  other  traits, 
Morrissey  blended  that  of  a  prize-fighter  of  the  lowest 
caste.  Drunken,  brutal,  without  friends  or  money,  bat- 
tered in  his  clothes  and  in  his  person,  he  drifted  ^own 
to  New  York  to  see  what  would  turn  up.  He  located 
himself  in  the  lowest  stews  of  New  York.  At  that 
time  the  elections  in  the  city  were  carried  by  brute 
force.  There  was  no  registry  law,  and  the  injunction 
of  politicians,  to  "vote  early  and  vote  often,"  was 
literally  obeyed.  Roughs,  ShortrBoys,  brutal  represen- 
tatives of  the  Bloody  Sixth,  took  possession  of  the 
polls.  Respectable  men,  who  were  known  to  be  op- 
posed to  the  corruption  and  brutality  which  marked 
the  elections,  were  assaulted,  beaten,  robbed,  and  often 
had  their  coats  torn  from  their  backs.  The  police  were 
powerless ;  often  they  were  allies  of  the  bullies,  and 
citizens  had  quite  as  much  to  fear  from  them  as  from 
the  rowdies.  If  the  election  was  likely  to  go  against 
them,  and  their  friends  presided  over  the  ballot-box, 
and  should  signal  the  danger,  a  rush  would  be  made 
by  twenty  or  thirty  desperate  fellows,  the  boxes  be 
seized  and  smashed,  tables  and  heads  broken,  the 
voters  dispersed,  and  the  election  carried  by  default. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  399 


HIS    START. 

A  local  election  was  to  take  place  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  city.  The  friends  of  good  order  were  in  the 
majority,  if  allowed  to  vote.  But  it  was  known  that 
the  rowdies  would  come  in  force  and  control  the  elec- 
tion. A  few  voters  got  together  to  see  what  could  be 
done,  and  among  them  the  present  General  Superin- 
tendent of  Police.  It  was  suggested  that  force  be  met 
with  force,  that  the  ballot-box  be  guarded,  and  the 
assailants  beaten  off  by  their  own  weapons.  But 
where  could  the  materials  be  found  to  grapple  with 
the^Plug  Uglies  and  their  associates  ?  Somebody  said 
that  Morrissey  was  in  town  ready  for  a  job,  and  that 
he  could  organize  a  force  and  guard  the  election. 

FINDS    EMPLOYMENT. 

One  day  Mrs.  Kennedy  came  to  her  husband  as  he 
sat  in  his  room,  and  said  to  him,  "  There  is  an  awful- 
looking  man  at  the  door,  who  wants  to  see  you.  He 
is  dirty  and  ragged,  has  a  ferocious  look,  and  is  the 
most  terrible  fellow  I  ever  saw.  Don't  go  to  the  door ; 
-he  certainly  means  mischief."  "  Is  he  a  big,  burly- 
looking  fellow?"  "Yes."  "Broad-shouldered,  tall, 
with  his  nose  turned  one  side  ?  "  "  Yes,  yes,"  said  the 
impatient  lady.  "  0, 1  know  who  it  is ;  it  is  John  Mor- 
rissey ;  let  him  come  in."  "  0,  husband,  the  idea  of  your 
associating  with  such  men,  and  bringing  them  to  the 
house,  too  !  "  But  the  unwelcome  visitor  walked  into 
the  parlor.  Now,  John  Morrissey  at  Saratoga,  in  his 
white  flannel  suit,  huge  diamond  rings,  and  pin  con- 
taining brilliants  of  the  first  water,  and  of  immense 


400  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

size ;  tall  of  stature,  a  powerful-looking  fellow,  walking 
quietly  about  the  streets,  or  lounging  at  the  hotels,  but 
seldom  speaking,  is  not  a  bad-looking  man.  Seen  in 
New  York  in  his  clerical  black  suit,  a  little  too  flashy 
to  be  a  minister,  yet  among  bankers,  merchants,  or  at 
the  Stock  Board  he  would  pass  very  well  as  one  of  the 
solid  men  of  the  city.  But  Morrissey  as  he  appeared 
that  morning  was  an  entirely  different  personage. 
He  had  come  from  a  long  debauch,  and  that  of  the 
lowest  kind.  He  was  bruised  and  banged  up.  His 
clothes  were  tattered.  The  Island  was  all  that  seemed 
to  be  opened  to  him.  With  him  a  bargain  was  made 
to  organize  a  force  of  fighters  and  bullies,  sufficient  to 
prevent  the  ballot-boxes  from  being  smashed,  and  the 
voters  from  being  driven  from  the  polls.  He  said  he 
could  do  it,  for  he  was  at  home  among  desperadoes. 
True  to  his  appointment,  he  was  at  the  polls  before 
they  were  open.  He  was  attended  by  about  thirty  as 
desperate  looking  fellows  as  ever  rode  in  a  wagon  or 
swung  from  Tyburn.  He  stationed  his  force,  gave  his 
orders,  told  each  not  to  strike  promiscuously,  but,  on 
the  first  appearance  of  disturbance,  each  to  seize  his 
man,  and  not  leave  him  till  his  head  was  broken. 
There  was  no  disturbance  till  twelve  o'clock.  The  late 
Captain  Carpenter  was  in  charge.  About  noon  a  huge 
lumber-van  drove  up,  drawn  by  four  horses.  It  was 
loaded  with  the  roughest  of  the  rough,  who  shouted 
and  yelled  as  the  vehicle  neared  the  curbstone.  Bill 
Poole,  at  that  time  so  notorious,  led  the  company. 
They  were  choice  specimens  of  the  men  who  then 
made  the  rulers  of  New  York.  Plug  Uglies,  Bummers, 
Boughs  of  the  Bloody  Sixth,  Short-Boys,  Fourth  Ward- 


IN  NEW   YORK.  401 

ers,  and  men  of  that  class,  were  fully  represented.  Bill 
Poole  sprang  to  the  sidewalk.  Captain  Carpenter 
stood  in  the  door.  Addressing  him,  Poole  said,  "  Cap., 
may  I  go  in  ? "  tt  0,  yes ;  walk  in  and  welcome," 
Carpenter  said,  and  in  Poole  went.  He  saw  the  situa- 
tion at  a  glance.  He  measured  Morrissey  and  his  gang, 
turned  on  his  heel,  and,  passing  out,  said,  "  Good  morn- 
ing, Cap.  ;  I  won't  give  you  a  call  to-day ;  drive  on 
boys ; "  and  on  they  went  to  some  polling-place  where 
they  could  play  their  desperate  game  without  having 
their  heads  broken. 

BEGINS    AS    A    GAMBLER. 

This  was  Morrissey's  first  upward  step.  He  washed 
his  face ;  with  a  part  of  the  money  paid  him  he  bought 
a  suit  of  clothes,  and  with  the  balance  opened  a  small 
place  for  play.  He  became  thoroughly  temperate.  He 
resolved  to  secure  first-class  custom.  To  do  this  he 
knew  he  must  dress  well,  behave  well,  be  sober,  and 
not  gamble.  These  resolutions  he  carried  out.  His 
house  in  New  York  is  the  most  elegantly  furnished  of 
any  of  the  kind  in  the  state.  It  has  always  been  con- 
ducted on  principles  of  the  highest  honor,  as  gamblers 
understand  that  term.  His  table,  attendants,  cooking, 
and  company  are  exceeded  by  nothing  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic. 

AT    SARATOGA. 

He  followed  his  patrons  to  Saratoga,  and  opened 
there  what  was  called  a  Club-House.  Judges,  senators, 
merchants,  bankers,  millionnaires,  became  his  guests. 
The  disguise  was  soon  thrown  ofi^  and  the  club-house 
assumed  the  form  of  a  first-class  gambling-house  at  the 
26 


402  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Springs.  Horse-racing  and  attendant  games  followed, 
all  bringing  custom  and  profit  to  Morrissey's  estab- 
lishment. About  this  time  the  celebrated  conspiracy 
was  formed  by  politicians  and  railroad  men  to  break 
down  Harlem  Railroad,  and  with  it  Commodore  Van- 
derbilt.  As  a  player  Morrissey  soon  became  familiar 
with  Yanderbilt,  who  spent  his  summers  at  the  Springs. 
In  the  extraordinary  movements  made  by  Commodore 
Vanderbilt  to  checkmate  the  conspirators,  and  throw 
them  on  their  back,  Morrissey  was  employed  to  play  a 
conspicuous  part.  He  made  his  appearance  at  the 
Stock  Board,  backed  by  Vanderbilt.  He  traded  in 
Harlem  in  a  manner  that  astounded  the  old  operators 
at  the  board.  He  was  allowed  to  share  in  the  profits 
of  that  bold  stroke  which  ruined  thousands  who  had 
sold  Harlem  short.  Morrissey  is  now  worth  half  a 
million.  He  is  still  a  gambler  by  profession,  and  carries 
on  his  establishments  in  Saratoga  and  in  New  York. 

GAMBLING    AS    A    TRADE. 

It  is  very  rare  that  a  gambler  makes  money.  The 
late  hours,  the  constant  drinking,  the  exciting  food  that 
is  eaten,  the  infatuation  of  play,  inevitably  lead  to 
destruction.  If  men  begin  with  a  cautious  hand,  and 
in  what  are  known  as  first-class  houses,  they  descend 
step  by  step  till  they  reach  the  lowest  depths  to  which 
gambling  descends.  A  few  men  make  it  a  profession, 
and  a  few  have  followed  it  for  half  a  century.  They 
are  men  of  peculiar  organization,  who  resist  the  fasci- 
nations of  play,  and  never  touch  the  wine  cup.  Some 
of  them  live  in  elegant  style  up  town,  and  bring  up 
their  families  in  luxury.  They  are  model  husbands 


IN   NEW   YORK.  403 

and  fathers ;  cheerful,  genial,  and  liberal  in  their  own 
homes.  Their  profession  is  unknown  to  their  families 
often,  and  to  their  most  intimate  friends.  There  are 
many  kinds  of  reputable  business  in  New  York  which 
require  night  work,  and  in  some  of  these  departments 
the  persons  alluded  to  are  supposed  to  be  employed. 
Any  one  who  takes  a  late  city  car  going  up  town  will 
find  two  or  three  genteelly-dressed  men,  very  fashion- 
able in  their  attire,  carefully  barbered,  profusely  covered 
with  jewelry,  fat,  sleek,  and  in  good  condition,  evi- 
dently on  excellent  terms  with  themselves;  any  night 
in  the  week,  between  twelve  and  two,  this  class,  look- 
ing very  much  alike,  may  be  seen  going  to  their  homes. 
They  are  the  men  who  make  gambling  a  business. 
They  do  not  drink,  they  do  not  swear,  they  do  not 
play.  Success  in  the  business  they  have  undertaken 
forbids  this.  They  attend  church,  and  usually  have  a 
pew  in  a  fashionable  place  of  worship.  They  are  liberal 
subscribers  to  the  causes  of  religion  and  beneficence. 
They  would  not  hesitate  to  head  a  subscription  with  a 
liberal  sum  to  suppress  gambling.  It  would  be  policy 
db  so,  and  policy  is  their  forte. 

ONE   MAKES    A    FORTUNE. 

A  man  lives  in  the  upper  part  of  this  city,  and  in  fine 
style.  He  is  reputed  to  be  worth  five  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars.  He  came  to  New  York  penniless.  He 
decided  to  take  up  play  as  a  business ;  not  to  keep  a 
gambling-house,  but  to  play  every  night  as  a  trade. 
He  made  certain  rules,  which  he  has  kept  over  thirty 
years.  He  would  avoid  all  forms  of  licentiousness; 
would  attend  church  regularly  on  Sunday ;  would  avoid 


404  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

all  low,  disreputable  company ;  would  drink  no  kind 
of  intoxicating  liquors,  wine,  or  ale  ;  would  neither 
smoke  nor  chew;  would  go  nightly  to  his  play,  as  a 
man  would  go  to  his  office  or  to  his  trade ;  would  play  as 
long  as  he  won,  or  until  the  bank  broke  ;  would  lose  a 
certain  sum  and  no  more  ;  when  he  lost  that,  he  would 
stop  playing,  and  leave  the  room  for  the  night ;  if  he 
lost  ten  nights  in  succession,  he  would  lose  that  exact 
sum  and  no  more,  and  wait  till  his  luck  changed.  This 
system  he  has  followed  exactly.  While  this  one  man 
has  been  successful  in  this  career,  tens  of  thousands, 
who  have  tried  the  hazard,  have  been  carried  down 
into  irretrievable  ruin. 


In   NEW   YOEK.  405 


XLVI. 

LOW    CLASS    GAMBLING-HOUSES. 

THE    SKIN   GAME.  —  HOW    VICTIMS    ARE   SECURED. 

THE    SKIN    GAME. 

THERE  are  two  kinds  of  gambling  in  the  city,  one 
known  as  the  square  game,  which  is  played  only  by 
gentlemen,  and  in  first-class  houses ;  the  other,  the 
skin  game,  which  is  played  in  all  the  dens  and  cham- 
bers, and  in  the  thousand  low  hells  of  New  York.  In 
the  square  game  nobody  is  solicited,  nor  obliged  to 
play,  though  they  visit  the  rooms.  In  low  gaming- 
houses it  is  not  safe  for  any  one  to  enter  unless  he 
plays.  Persons  are  not  only  solicited,  but  bullied  into 
hazarding  something.  Kunners  are  out,  who  visit  all 
the  hotels  and  places  of  amusement  to  solicit  custom,  as 
drummers  solicit  trade  for  dry  goods  houses. 

HOW   VICTIMS   ARE   SECURED. 

The  mode  of  procedure  is  usually  this.  A  person 
arrives  in  New  York,  and  books  his  name  at  a  hotel. 
A  sharper,  who  is  hanging  round  from  a  low  club- 
house, watches  his  descent  from  the  coach,  or  his 
entrance  with  his  carpet-bag  ;  watches  him  as  he  books 


406  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

his  name,  and  waits  until  he  has  finished  his  dinner  or 
supper,  and  comes  into  the  public  room.  To  a  stranger 
there  is  no  place  so  lonely  and  utterly  desolate  as  a 
great  city.  The  stranger  does  not  know  what  to  do 
with  the  time  that  hangs  heavy  on  his  hands  till  the 
morning  trade  begins.  The  roper-in  for  the  gambling- 
house  understands  this  very  well.  At  the  proper  time 
he  approaches  the  visitor,  and  calls  him  by  name  ; 
asks  him  if  he  is  not  from  Chicago  or  New  Orleans, 
as  the  case  may  be  ;  announces  himself  as  from  that 
city  ;  speaks  about  mutual  acquaintances.  The  visitor, 
thankful  that  he  has  found  somebody  to  speak  to  in 
this  great  wilderness,  becomes  communicative.  The 
sharper  soon  finds  out  whether  his  companion  is  a 
drinking  man  or  not.  If  he  is,  an  invitation  is  given  to 
come  up  and  take  a  drink,  in  which  the  health  of  their 
mutual  friends  in  New  Orleans  and  elsewhere  is  duly 
honored.  Each  treats  the  other,  and  several  glasses 
are  drank.  From  the  bar  the  parties  proceed  to  the 
front  steps  of  the  hotel.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do 
with  yourself  to-night  ? "  is  carelessly  asked  by  the 
roper-in.  Of  course  the  victim  has  no  plans  ;  he  has 
not  been  in  New  York  long  enough  to  form  any.  He 
is  only  too  happy  to  accept  an  invitation  to  call  at  a 
private  club-house  of  a  friend.  "  They  keep  vile  liquor 
in  this  house  ;  I  would  not  drink  the  stuflC  My  friend 
imports  his  own  liquors ;  you'll  get  a  fine  drink  over 
there."  Arm  in  arm  the  parties  start  for  the  club- 
house, which,  of  course,  is  a  gambling-den.  They  take 
a  few  drinks  all  round,  and  then  pass  into  another 
room,  where  u  a  few  gentlemen "  are  having  a  quiet 
game  by  themselves.  The  roper  looks  on  for  a  while, 


IN  NEW  YORK,  407 

and  suggests  to  his  friend  that  he  take  a  chance  for  a 
dollar  or  so';  that  he  is  not  much  accustomed  to  play, 
but  that  he  does  so  once  in  a  while  for  amusement 
He  plays  and  wins ;  he  plays  again  and  wins.  The 
game  is  so  played  that  winning  or  losing  is  at  the 
pleasure  of  the  man  who  shuffles  the  cards.  Between 
each  play  the  visitors  drink.  It  costs  them  nothing, 
and  they  drink  deep  ;  at  least  the  victim  does.  Confi- 
dentially oyer  their  glasses  the  sharper  suggests  that 
his  friend  back  him  for  the  little  sum  of  fifty  dollars. 
The  excited  man  yields,  and  wins.  He  now  bets  a 
hundred  dollars.  The  infatuation  is  upon  him.  He 
bets  all  his  money,  pledges  his  watch  and  jewelry,  till, 
insensible,  he  is  turned  out  on  the  sidewalk,  to  be  taken 
to  the  station-house,  or  carried  to  his  hotel  by  the 
police.  In  these  dens  strangers  have  lost  as  high  as 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  a  single  night.  In 
the  morning  the  gamblers  cannot  be  found,  and  if 
found,  the  robber^are  far  away.  There  are  about  fifty 
of  these  sharpers,  who  prowl  around  the  hotels  nightly, 
seeking  their  victims  among  the  unwary.  Men  who 
frequent  low  and  disreputable  places  to  fleece  strangers 
and  the  young  are  not  only  professed  gamblers,  but 
curbstone  brokers  and  gamblers  in  stocks,  with  whom 
the  excitement  of  the  day  is  exchanged  for  the  hazard 
of  the  night 


408  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 


XLVII. 

DAY    GAMBLING-HOUSES. 

THEIR    ORIGIN.  —  HOW   THE    ROOMS    ARE    FITTED    UP.  AN    INSIDE    VIEW. 

THEIR    ORIGIN. 

THERE  is  a  class  of  speculators  who  are  not  content 
with  legitimate  business  nor  legitimate  hours.  The  up- 
town hotels  are  crowded  with  them.  Rooms  are  oc- 
cupied, halls  rented,  and  the  day  excitement  at  Wall 
Street  is  renewed  in  the  evening,  and  often  runs  up  to 
the  small  hours  of  the  morning.  The  same  spirit  led  to- 
the  opening  of  day  gambling-house^  These  are  con- 
veniently located  to  business.  They  run  from  Fulton 
Street  to  Wall,  are  found  at  a  convenient  distance  from 
Broadway  and  Water  Street.  They  are  designed  to 
attract  merchants,  bankers,  young  men,  and  visitors 
from  the  country.  They  have  ropers-in,  as  have  the 
night  gambling-saloons.  These  decoys  have  a  percent- 
age taken  from  the  winnings  of  their  customers.  Every 
man  they  can  seduce  to  enter  one  of  these  establish- 
ments, if  he  lose  money,  is  a  gain  to  the  decoy.  These 
sharpers  hang  round  the  street,  loaf  on  the  curbstone, 
dog  their  victims  from  store  to  store,  proffer  them  aid, 
go  with  them  blocks  to  show  them  the  way,  help  them 
to  make  purchases,  propose  to  show  them  sights,  and  at 


IN   NEW   YORK.  409 

length,  as  if  accidentally,  lead  them  into  a  day  gambling- 
saloon,  which  is  situated  very  conveniently  for  the  pur- 
pose. In  these  dens,  men  who  have  lost  in  stocks  on 
the  street  try  to  make  gains.  Missing  bonds  here  turn 
up,  missing  securities  are  here  found,  pledged  by  con- 
fidential clerks,  who,  until  now,  were  supposed  to  be 
trustworthy.  Young  men  who  are  robbed  in  the  street, 
from  whose  hands  funds  are  snatched,  from  whose  pos- 
session a  well-stuffed  pocket-book  has  been  taken,  find 
the  thief  usually  within  the  silent  walls  of  a  clay  gam- 
bling-house. 

HOW   THE   ROOMS    ARE    FITTED    UP. 

The  place  selected  for  one  of  these  saloons  is  in  the 
busiest  and  most  frequented  parts  of  lower  New  York. 
A  store  let  in  floors  is  usually  selected.  A  large  build- 
ing full  of  offices,  with  a  common  stairway,  up  and  down 
which  people  are  rushing  all  the  time,  is  preferred ;  or 
the  loft  of  a  warehouse,  if  nothing  better  can  be  had,  is 
taken.  A  sealed  partition  runs  from  the  floor  to  the 
wall.  The  windows  are  barred  with  wooden  shutters, 
and  covered  with  heavy  curtains.  The  rooms  are 
handsomely  carpeted,  and  gayly  adorned.  Lounges 
and  chairs  line  the  sides  of  the  room,  and  the  inevi- 
table roulette  and  faro  tables  stand  in  their  place.  The 
padded  cushion  on  which  the  cards  rest  tells  the  em- 
ployment of  the  room.  The  outside  door  is  flush  with 
the  partition.  A  party  desiring  to  enter  pulls  the  bell, 
and  the  door  opens  without  any  apparent  agency,  and 
closes  suddenly  on  the  comer.  The  hardened  gambler 
walks  in  as  he  would  into  a  bar-room  or  an  omnibus, 
regardless  of  observation.  But  the  young  man  who  is 


410  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

new  to  the  business,  who  has  come  justly  or  unjustly 
by  a  bill,  who  has  been  sent  on  an  errand  and  must 
make  up  a  falsehood  to  account  for  his  detention,  or 
who  is  sent  from  the  bank  to  the  Clearing  House,  or 
from  the  Clearing  House  to  the  Custom  House,  and 
who  runs  in  to  try  his  luck  for  a  few  minutes,  or  for 
thirty,  can  be  easily  detected.  He  pauses  below ;  goes 
a  story  above ;  looks  up  arid  down  before  he  pulls  the 
bell ;  faintly  draws  the  wire,  and  darts  in  like  a  startled 
fawn.  Not  without  observation  and  scrutiny  does  the 
customer  get  into  the  saloon.  The  outside  door  admits 
him  into  a  small  vestibule.  The  door  behind  him  is  closed, 
and  he  cannot  open  it.  The  bell  has  announced  his 
presence.  He  is  scrutinized  through  a  small  wicket 
opening  in  the  wall.  He  must  in  some  way  be  vouched 
for.  If  he  comes  through  invitation  of  a  roper-in  he 
has  a  card.  If  all  is  right  he  is  admitted.  The  dark- 
ness of  night  fills  the  room.  The  gas  is  lighted.  The 
silence  of  a  sepulchre  reigns  in  the  chamber.  Persons 
sit,  lounge,  and  stand  in  groups ;  they  watch  the  table, 
but  not  a  word  is  spoken  except  the  monotonous  utter- 
ances of  the  men  who  have  charge  of  the  gaming. 

AN   INSIDE  VIEW. 

Seated  at  the  table  to  deal  the  cards  sits  a  man 
apparently  between  forty  and  fifty  years  of  age.  These 
men  all  seem  of  the  same  age  and  of  the  same  tribe. 
They  are  usually  short,  thick  set,  square  built,  pugilistic 
fellows,  half  bald,  with  mahogany  faces  —  men  without 
nerve,  emotion,  or  sensibility.  They  sit  apparently  all 
day  long  pursuing  their  monotonous  and  deadly  trade, 
making  no  inquiry  about  their  victims,  caring  nothing 


IN  NEW  YORK,  411 

about  their  losses,  unmoved  by  the  shriek  of  anguish,  the 
cry  of  remorse,  the  outburst,  "  0,  I  am  undone  !  I  am 
ruined  !  What  will  my  mother  say  ?  What  will  be- 
come of  my  wife  and  children  ?  "  While  the  wounded 
are  removed,  and  their  outcries  hushed,  the  play  goes 
on.  These  rooms  are  distinguished  by  their  silence  and 
quiet  tread  inside.  They  open  about  nine  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  close  at  four,  when  the  tide  begins  to  turn  up 
town.  The  amount  of  misery  these  day  gambling- 
houses  create,  the  loss  of  money,  character,  and  stand- 
ing, exceeds  all  belief.  The  men  who  carry  on  this 
class  of  gambling  down  town  are  connected  with  the 
low  class  up  town,  and  when  the  day  gambling-houses 
close,  those  that  run  in  the  night  are  opened.  The 
losses  are  often  very  heavy.  Men  enticed  into  these 
dens  have  been  known  to  lose  from  twelve  to  fifty 
thousand  dollars  a  night.  There  is  no  seduction  in 
New  York  more  subtle  or  more  deadly  than  the  day 
gambling-houses. 


412  SUNSHINE   AND  SHADOW 


XLVIII. 

TELEGRAPH     HEADQJJARTERS,     ETC. 

PROFESSOR  MORSE.  —  INVENTION  OP  THE  TELEGRAPH.  —  MEN  SLOW  TO  BB- 
LIEVE.  — GOVERNMENT  AID. — TELEGRAPH  COMPANIES.  —  AMERICAN  TEL- 
EGRAPH COMPANY.  —  NEW  MODE  OP  WRITING. — SYSTEM  OF  BUSINESS. — 
A  DOMESTIC  CONVENIENCE.  —  EMPLOYMENT  FOR  WOMEN. 

PROFESSOR    MORSE, 

THE  inventor  of  the  telegraph,  can  be  found  daily  at 
the  headquarters  of  this  great  system,  which  is  located 
on  Broadway.  He  is  the  son  of  a  New  England  clergy- 
man, Dr.  Morse,  of  Charlestown.  His  father  made  his 
pulpit  a  fortress  in  the  dark  and  trying  times  which 
beset  his  faith.  He  was  remarkable  for  his  courage  and 
daring  in  all  that  he  considered  right.  A  village  physi- 
cian in  Watertown,  Mass.,  had  introduced  vaccine.  The 
excited  people  insisted  that  he  was  about  to  turn  peo- 
ple into  cattle,  by  taking  the  virus  out  of  a  cow  and 
putting  it  into  a  man.  The  practice  of  the  doctor  fell 
away.  He  dared  not  go  out  of  his  house  nights,  and 
his  life  was  in  danger.  Dr.  Morse  espoused  the  theory 
of  vaccination,  protected  the  doctor,  and  gave  the  arm 
of  his  son  to  be  operated  on  to  remove  the  popular 
terror.  These  lessons  of  heroism  and  daring  were  not 
lost  on  the  children. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  413 


INVENTION    OF    THE    TELEGRAPH. 

In  the  year  1832  Professor  Morse  sailed  from 
Havana  in  a  packet  ship,  bound  for  New  York.  Quite 
a  number  of  eminent  men  were  on  board.  The  voyage 
was  long  and  tedious.  One  evening  a  physician  of 
Boston  detailed  some  marvellous  discoveries  that  had 
been  made  in  connection  with  electricity.  When  the 
doctor  closed  his  statement,  Professor  Morse  quietly 
remarked,  "  If  these  statements  are.  true,  and  such  dis- 
coveries have  really  been  made,  then  I  can  send  a  mes- 
sage by  lightning  round  the  world."  He  retired  to  his 
state-room,  and  from  that  time  seemed  lost  to  all  things 
around  him  till  he  reached  his  native  shore.  He  had 
been  absent  from  his  family  and  his  native  land  three 
years.  His  family  and  friends  were  on  the  pier  to 
receive  him.  He  accepted  their  warm  and  cordial 
greetings  with  marked  indifference.  He  made  no 
inquiries,  and  seemed  morose  and  insensible.  He  was 
big  with  a  great  discovery  that  was  to  change  the  face 
of  the  world.  All  his  feelrngs  and  powers  were  ab- 
sorbed in  this.  Till  the  telegraph  was  a  reality,  and 
established  beyond  dispute,  he  seemed  not  to  walk 
among  men.  This  great  invention  was  born  on  the 
wide  ocean,  whose  waters  touch  all  climes  and  bind 
all  nations  in  amity.  It  seemed  to  scorn  the  limits 
of  state  or  nation. 

MEN    SLOW    TO    BELIEVE. 

The  public  were  slow  to  accept  the  great  discovery. 
The  monks  persecuted  Galileo,  and  refused  to  look 
through  his  telescope  lest  they  should  believe.  Harvey 


414  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

demonstrated  the  circulation  of  blood,  and  lost  his 
practice  for  his  pains.  The  man  who  cut  the  first  types 
with  his  penknife  out  of  wood,  and  exhibited  the  first 
printed  page  to  the  startled  authorities,  was  nearly 
hung  for  being  in  league  with  the  devil.  Jenner  fled 
from  his  indignant  countrymen  because  he  was  success- 
ful in  controlling  the  small  pox.  Gangs  of  men,  grin- 
ning their  incredulity,  greeted  Fulton  with  derision  as 
he  started  his  first  steamboat  from  New  York.  Morse 
could  expect  no  better  fate.  The  invention  of  the 
telegraph  was  not  perfect  at  the  start.  Difficulties  were 
to  be  overcome,  and  months  of  patient  trial  needed,  to 
make  it  a  success.  Facing  all  opposition,  and  breasting 
all  scorn,  the  inventor  pursued  his  way  for  a  time 
almost  alone.  The  attempt  to  get  up  a  company  to 
make  telegraphing  a  practical  success  was  met  by 
ridicule  and  derision.  Professor  Morse  went  from 
office  to  office,  and  from  man  to  man,  but  nobody 
would  touch  his  scheme.  Jacob  Little  was  then  the 
great  bear  of  Wall  Street.  Being  one  of  the  shrewdest 
financiers,  and  a  man  of  remarkable  forecast,  he  was 
urged  to  embark  in  the  new  enterprise.  After  it  be- 
came established,  Mr.  Little  said,  "  At  one  time  I  might 
have  controlled  all  the  telegraph  lines  in  the  land." 
But  when  the  proposal  was  made  to  him,  he  shook  his 
head,  and  said,  "  I  will  give  Professor  Morse  a  hundred 
dollars  to  help  him  along,  but  not  one  dollar  for  invest- 
ment." A  few  personal  friends  were  willing  to  try 
their  luck,  but  they  were  poor  in  purse,  and  without 
influence.  But  one  man  in  the  land  except  Professor 
Morse  grasped  the  future  of  this  great  discovery.  Mr. 
Butterfield,  of  western  New  York,  so  famous  in 


IN  NEW   YORK.  415 

connection  with  express  companies,  and  who  ran  the 
great  stage  lines  west,  grasped,  with  his  whole  soul,  the 
inventor  and  his  cause.  He  gave  his  money  and  his 
time  to  demonstrate  the  practicability  of  the  discovery. 
Men  laughed  at  his  folly,  and  derided  him  for  his  gulli- 
bility. He  defied  his  friends,  and  told  them  that  the 
time  would  come  when  the  telegraph  would  supersede 
the  mail.  Things  went  roughly  and  savagely  enough 
for  a  long  time.  Poverty,  like  an  armed  man,  came 
upon  the  inventor,  and  all  associated  with  him.  They 
dressed  meanly  and  poorly,  wore  rough  shoes,  and  had 
a  hard  battle  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door  and  hold 
on  to  the  great  discovery. 

GOVERNMENT    AID. 

That  an  experimental  line  might  be  run  between 
Baltimore  and  Washington,  the  government  made  a 
very  discreet  proposition.  If  the  thing  was  a  success, 
and  the  lines  could  really  pass  a  message  from  Baltimore 
and  back,  a  certain  sum  should  be  paid  the  inventor; 
but  if  the  experiment  failed,  the  economical  govern- 
ment was  to  pay  nothing.  It  must  be  no  bogus  de- 
spatch, but  a  real  one,  sent  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
government.  The  message  was  sent,  and  the  answer 
returned.  John  C.  Spencer  was  then  at  the  head  of 
the  Treasury  Department.  He  was  as  intelligent  as 
men  averaged  at  that  time.  Yet  so  ignorant  was  be 
of  telegraphing,  and  so  little  did  he  understand  the 
system,  that  he  asked  Mr.  Butterfield,  when  the  subject 
was  canvassed,  how  large  a  bundle  could  be  sent  over 
the  wires.  He  wanted  to  know  if  the  United  States 
mail  could  not  be  sent  in  the  same  way.  Nor  were 


416  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

the  scientific  men  much  more  advanced.  Not  one  of 
them  knew  that  the  earth  formed  the  most  perfect 
circuit.  The  work  was  delayed  a  long  time  from  the 
supposed  necessity  of  a  canal  from  Washington  to 
Baltimore  to  complete  the  circuit.  But  all  troubles 
came  to  an  end,  and  the  telegraph  took  its  place  among 
the  most  beneficent  discoveries  of  the  world.  The  in- 
ventor placed  himself  high  among  the  benefactors  of 
his  race.  He  found  himself  suddenly  raised  to  affluence, 
as  were  all  his  friends  who  joined  him  in  the  dark  day, 
and  stood  by  him  through  his  trials.  The  stock  could 
not  be  presented  so  fast  as  men  subscribed  for  it. 
Companies  multiplied,  and  a  network  of  wires  spread 
under  the  whole  heavens,  and  ran  in  every  direction 
over  the  land  and  under  the  sea. 

TELEGRAPH    COMPANIES. 

For  a  time  everybody  seemed  rushing  into  the 
business.  Three  great  lines,  however,  embraced  the 
telegraphing.  Morse's  company  took  the  lead  ; 
House's  line  printed  the  words ;  but  Baine's  was  the 
most  curious  of  all.  It  took  down  the  message,  and 
by  a  chemical  process  obliterated  part  of  the  words,  and 
in  an  instant  changed  the  characters.  The  three  com- 
panies interfered  with  each  other,  underbid,  and  created 
a  rivalry,  by  which  the  public  were  badly  served,  and 
the  companies  kept  very  poor.  A  consolidation  was 
called  for,  and  a  company  was  formed,  known  as  the 
Six  Nations  Telegraph  Company,  and  so  named  after 
the  Six  Indian  Nations.  The  business  was  divided 
between  the  parties  composing  the  new  organization. 
To  the  American  Telegraph  Company  was  assigned 


IN  NEW   YORK.  417 

the  seaboard  from  Halifax  to  New  Orleans,  with  its 
headquarters  at  New  York,  and  branches  running  to 
Canada.  The  consolidation  introduced  a  new  era  into 
the  business.  It  called  into  the  service  of  the  lines 
the  ablest  talent.  It  produced  harmony  and  concord. 
The  public  were  better  served,  and  the  tariff  of 
prices  reduced  rather  than  raised.  Telegraphing 
became  a  necessity.  Its  boon  was  brought  to  every 
man's  door. 

AMERICAN    TELEGRAPH    COMPANY    (WESTERN    UNION). 

The  headquarters  of  this  company  are  on  Broadway, 
corner  of  Liberty  Street.  It  has  a  capital  of  over  two 
millions  of  dollars,  employs  over  twenty  thousand 
miles  of  wire,  has  eight  hundred  offices,  and  the  names 
of  two  thousand  on  its  pay-roll.  Its  annual  expenses 
are  over  half  a  million  of  dollars  a  year.  The  business 
demands  men  of  talent,  intelligence,  quickness,  and 
parts.  These  men  cannot  be  had  without  being  paid  for. 
For  messages  alone  thirty  thousand  dollars  are  paid 
annually.  The  same  sum  is  paid  for  the  mere  cups  and 
batteries  of  telegraphing.  The  headquarters  smack  of 
mystery.  Everything  is  systematized,  and  order  and 
quiet  rule.  The  endless  click  of  a  hundred  instru- 
ments sounds  like  a  distant  cotton  factory.  All  the 
instruments —  Morse's,  House's,  and  Baine's  —  are  used. 

NEW    MODE    OF    WRITING. 

The  old  style  of  taking  down  the  message  and  then 
writing   it   out,  is  abandoned.     The   operators  under- 
stand the  click  of  the  machine,  as  well  as  they  do  the 
utterance  of  a  man.     As  an  accurate  reporter  takes 
27 


418  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

down  the  speech  of  the  orator  as  he  speaks,  so  the 
message  is  written  down  as  it  comes  clicking  over  the 
wires.  The  ear  is  more  accurate  than  the  eye,  and 
fewer  mistakes  are  made  in  the  new  system  than  in 
the  old  one  of  words  or  symbols.  So  written  down, 
the  message  is  ready  for  immediate  distribution.  Bank 
checks  are  not  recorded  with  more  accuracy.  All 
messages  are  numbered,  together  with  the  name  of 
the  party  who  sent,  the  name  of  the  party  who  receives, 
and  the  date.  They  are  important  in  court  trials,  and 
become  a  material  part  of  legal  evidence. 

SYSTEM    OF   BUSINESS. 

To  be  a  success,  telegraphing  must  be  run  as  sys- 
tematic as  railroads.  The  cupola  of  the  building  is  full 
of  mystery.  Two  thousand  cups  or  cells,  the  compli- 
cation of  the  wires,  the  network  of  lines  crossing  and 
recrossing  each  other,  seem  all  confusion.  But  to  the 
master  hand  that  controls  all  this  it  is  simplicity 
itself.  As  in  a  station  there  are  tracks  for  incoming 
trains  and  tracks  for  outgoing  trains,  so  is  it  with 
messages.  There  are  special  wires  assigned  to  special 
business.  The  line  for  the  Brokers'  Board  has  no 
other  business  sent  over  it.  Express-men,  railroad 
companies,  the  press,  the  police,  and  the  markets 
have  each  a  wire.  One  line  is  devoted  to  Philadel- 
phia, another  to  Boston.  That  messages  may  not 
be  interrupted,  they  are  sent  by  one  instrument  over 
one  line  and  returned  by  another.  With  wonderful 
accuracy  message  follows  message  with  the  speed  of 
lightning.  A  curious  instrument  is  used  in  the  Ameri- 
can Company's  office,  which  is  called  a  telegraph 


IN  NEW    YORK.  419 

switch,  operating  somewhat  like  a  switch  on  a  railway 
track.  With  it  a  message  can  be  switched  off  at  any 
moment,  at  any  point,  to  let  an  incoming  despatch 
have  the  track. 

A  DOMESTIC    CONVENIENCE. 

It  was  the  purpose  of  the  far-seeing  men  who 
Systematized  telegraphing  to  make  it  a  common 
necessity  —  like  Croton  water,  the  express,  and  the 
post  office  ;  to  bring  the  tariff  of  prices  within  every 
man's  means  ;  to  bring  a  wire  to  every  man's 
door,  that  the  whole  community  might  buy,  sell, 
and  travel  by  electricity.  The  American  Company 
cover  the  whole  country  —  from  Halifax  to  New 
Orleans,  from  Sandy  Hook  to  Montreal  —  with  a 
network  of  vibrating  wires.  But  the  local  and  do- 
mestic use  of  the  telegraph  is  scarcely  less  important. 
The  company  have  forty  offices  in  this  city.  Every 
person,  within  a  circuit  of  twenty  miles,  can,  if  he 
will,  be  connected  with  headquarters.  If  a  lady  is 
sick,  she  telegraphs  her  husband  to  come  home  and 
bring  the  doctor.  If  a  man  of  business  concludes 
to  go  to  California,  or  to  Europe,  he  telegraphs  for 
his  carpet-bag  to  meet  him  at  the  steamer  at  noon. 
A  merchant  invites  a  friend  to  dine  with  him,  and 
he  informs  his  wife  of  the  fact  by  lightning.  Con- 
tracts are  made,  money  paid,  the  payment  of  checks 
stopped,  consultations  held,  and  millions  of  stocks 
change  hands,  through  the  subtle  agency  of  the  wire. 
The  General  Superintendent  of  Police  sits  in  his 
office  and  converses  -  with  his  captains  thirty  miles 
away.  Some  men  have  special  wires  assigned  to 
them,  connecting  their  home  and  store. 


420  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 


EMPLOYMENT    FOR    WOMEN. 

In  the  early  history  of  telegraphing,  it  was  dis- 
covered that  it  was  a  work  peculiarly  adapted  to 
women.  They  were  invited  to  enter  the  field.  Rooms 
were  provided  for  their  instruction,  and  if  they 
were  worthy  of  it,  employment  and  good  pay  se- 
cured. The  room  in  the  central  office  in  which 
women  are  instructed  in  the  art  is  very  handsome, 
well  furnished,  airy,  and  cheerful.  The  lady  superin- 
dent,  who  has  this  department  in  charge,  has  been 
many  years  in  the  employ  of  the  company,  and 
draws  the  handsome  salary  of  one  thousand  dollars 
a  year.  On  the  line  of  railroads,  at  the  stations, 
and  in  small  country  towns,  women  are  employed. 
They  have  a  liberal  salary,  and  can  do  their  sew- 
ing, pursue  their  studies,  and  yet  perform  all  the 
duties  of  the  office.  .They  make  the  best  operators. 
They  are  more  reliable  than  men,  more  trustful 
and  accurate ;  their  ear  is  quick,  their  fingers  ready. 
None  but  first-class  women  are  employed.  Their 
neat  and  tasteful  dress,  and  the  order  in  which  they 
keep  their  office,  make  their  rooms  very  attractive. 
Their  influence  is  felt  all  along  the  lines.  Men  are 
more  attentive  and  civil  in  their  duties  where  lady 
operators  are  employed. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  421 


LIX. 

GEORGE    LAW. 

THIS  gentleman  was  born  near  Cambridge,  Washing- 
ton County.  He  came  to  New  York  a  penniless  lad, 
and  reached  mature  life  before  he  made  his  mark  on 
the  city.  He  obtained  his  start  financially  by  his  con- 
tract to  build  the  High  Bridge  for  the  Croton  Aque- 
duct. He  obtained  several  other  contracts  equally 
profitable,  and  then  became  a  speculator  in  Wall  Street, 
His  connection  with  the  ferries  and  railroads,  especially 
Harlem,  Eighth  Avenue,  and  city  roads,  enabled  him  to 
amass  a  colossal  fortune. 

Mr.  Law  resides  in  a  fashionable  residence  on  Fifth 
Avenue.  He  is  a  huge  man  in  size,  ponderous  as  well 
as  tall,  with  an  immense  face  and  head,  which  seems 
swollen,  it  is  so  huge.  His  features  are  coarse,  and  one, 
from  his  general  expression,  would  judge  him  to  be  a 
hard  man  to  deal  with.  Like  most  men  who  started 
poor,  Mr.  Law  has  very  little  sympathy  with  the  masses. 
He  is  probably  as  unpopular  a  man  as  can  be  found  in 
New  York.  He  has  the  control  of  several  railroads  and 
ferries,  and  he  runs  them  to  suit  his  own  pleasure.  The 
public  are  nothing  to  him  but  contributors  to  his 
fortune.  If  he  wants  a  ferry,  and  can  get  it  in  no  other 
way,  he  will  start  an  opposition  line,  reduce  the  fare, 


422  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

run  off  the  old  line,  then  raise  the  fare,  charge  what  he 
pleases,  and  give  the  public  such  accommodations  as 
he  is  disposed  to.  He  is  over  sixty  years  of  age,  drives 
a  one-horse  buggy,  which  is  shabby  and  dilapidated. 
Slovenly  in  his  dress,  coarse  in  his  manners,  with  a 
countenance  stolid  as  if  made  of  mahogany,  he  can  be 
seen  daily  riding  from  point  to  point,  giving  personal 
attention  to  his  immense  business. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  423 


L. 

BROWN    AND     BROTHERS. 

THIS  great  banking-house  is  known  all  over  the 
world  for  its  reliability,  and  the  honorable  manner  in 
which  its  business  is  discharged.  The  founder  of  the 
house  is  James  Brown,  who  is  still  living.  Like  so 
many  of  our  successful  men,  Mr.  Brown  was  born  in 
the  north  of  Ireland,  and  came  to  this  country  when  a 
lad,  bringing  nothing  with  him  but  good  principles 
and  his  indomitable  industry.  His  home,  in  the  north 
of  Ireland,  was  the  centre  of  the  linen  manufacture, 
and  Mr.  Brown  commenced  business  by  importing 
linens.  In  this  business  his  brothers  were  engaged. 
With  William,  the  English  partner  of  the  firm,  who  was 
knighted,  James  acquired  a  handsome  fortune.  With 
this  he  opened  the  banking-house  of  Brown  &  Brothers. 
Mr.  Brown  is  a  man  of  great  liberality,  and  a  devout 
Presbyterian.  He  has  built  the  finest  private  banking- 
house  in  the  world,  on  Wall  Street.  It  is  of  white 
marble,  and  cost  a  million  of  dollars.  Mr.  Brown  is  a 
gentleman  of  the  Old  School.  He  attends  closely  and 
personally  to  his  own  business.  He  is  of  medium 
height,  about  seventy  years  of  age,  stoops  slightly ;  his 
hair  is  gray,  and  his  manners  are  quiet  and  unostenta- 
tious. He  goes  to  his  daily  business  as  regularly  as 
any  clerk  in  New  York. 


424        SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


LI. 

STREET- WALKERS. 

WHO    THEY   ARE.  — BED-HOUSES.  —  VISITORS.  — WOMEN    ON    THE    PAVE. — AN 
.   INCIDENT.  —  HOW    STREET-WALKERS    APPEAR. 

WHO    THEY    ARE. 

THE  tramps  on  the  sidewalk,  who  annoy  the  passer- 
by, and  dog  the  footsteps  of  men  who  walk  Broadway 
after  ten  o'clock,  are  mostly  young  girls,  who  have  an 
ostensible  trade  in  which  they  are  employed  during  the 
day.  Many  of  them  are  waiter  girls  in  low  restaurants, 
who  are  known  as  the  "  Pretty  Waiter  Girls ; "  or  they 
work  in  hoop-skirt  factories,  binderies,  or  in  some  place 
where  girls  congregate  together.  Not  all  the  girls  in 
saloons  and  concert-rooms  are  bad.  But  few  remain 
long  in  that  connection  who  do  not  become  so.  The 
wages  paid  to  waiter  girls  vary  from  five  to  fifteen  dol- 
lars a  week.  To  this  is  added  the  wages  of  infamy. 

The  homes  of  most  of  the  street  girls  are  in  the 
suburbs  of  New  York.  They  come  in  from  Brooklyn, 
Hoboken,  Jersey  City,  Harlem,  and  other  places  easy 
of  access,  and  can  be  seen  coming  and  going  night  and 
morning,  and  their  employment  is  as  well  known  as 
that  of  any  trade  in  New  York.  Many  of  them  are 
mere  girls.  Some  have  run  away  from  home,  and  have 


IN   NEW   YORK.  425 

a  place  to  lay  their  heads  on  condition  that  they  divide 
the  spoils  of  the  night  Some  are  orphans,  and  take 
the  street  to  keep  themselves  out  of  the  almshouse. 
Some  have  brutal  or  drunken  mothers,  who  drive  their 
children  into  the  street,  and  live  in  idleness  and  de- 
bauchery on  the  infamous  wages  of  their  daughters. 
Some  get  coal,  rent,  and  food  from  the  hands  of  a  child 
who  sleeps  all  day  and  is  out  all  night,  and  the  thing  is 
too  comfortable  to  admit  of  much  scrutiny. 

Most  of  these  girls  have  a  room  in  the  city  that  they 
call  their  home,  —  a  small,  plainly -furnished  sleeping 
apartment.  This  room  is  rented  by  the  week,  and 
paid  for  in  advance.  To  this  place  company  is  taken, 
and  the  night  spent.  If  robbery  is  committed,  as  it  is 
frequently,  the  room  is  deserted  the  next  morning,  and 
the  occupant  goes,  no  one  knows  where.  As  the  rent 
is  always  paid  in  advance,  the  landlord  is  no  loser. 

BED-HOUSES. 

All  over  New  York,  in  parts  high  and  low,  houses 
abound  that  bear  the  designation  of  bed-houses.  A 
location,  fashionable  or  disreputable,  is  selected  accord- 
ing to  the  class  of  custom  that  has  to  be  secured.  No 
one  knows  who  is  at  the  head  of  such  institutions. 
Often  landlords  who  are  known  on  'change  as  reputable 
men  fit  up  a  bed-house,  and  hire  some  hag  to  take  care 
of  it.  The  location  is  well  known.  The  house  is  dark, 
and  all  about  it  is  quiet.  If  a  noise  was  allowed, 
the  police  would  step  in  and  shut  up  the  thing  as  a 
nuisance.  One  of  the  most  notorious  houses  of  this 
class  has  fifty  rooms.  Sometimes  a  room  is  engaged  in 
advance.  But  usually  parties  come  to  the  house;  enter 


426  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  vestibule,  and  wait  the  response  to  the  ring.  A 
person  appears  in  the  dim  light.  But  no  feature  can 
be  seen.  If  there  is  no  room  vacant,  the  quiet,  low 
answer  is,  "  All  full."  If  otherwise,  the  parties  are  ad- 
mitted. A  dim  candle  is  put  into  the  hand  of  a  ser- 
vant, and  the  money  for  the  room  paid  at  once,  and 
the  customers  are  escorted  up  stairs. 

VISITORS. 

No  rooms  are  so  profitable.  A  well-regulated  bed- 
house  is  the  most  lucrative  house  in  New  York.  Wo- 
men who  have  tried  to  keep  respectable  boarding-houses 
often  find  "  a  gentleman  friend  "  who  will  open  such  a 
house,  or  be  a  guarantee  for  the  rent.  Men  are  found 
who  not  only  will  furnish  such  houses  and  take  their 
pay  in  instalments,  but  advertise  so  to  do.  Into  these 
houses  come  the  street-walkers,  who  find  their  victims 
on  and  near  Broadway.  If  the  girls  have  not  the 
money,  their  companions  have.  Gray-headed  old  men 
can  be  seen  wending  their  way  late  at  night  under  the 
lead  of  a  child  scarcely  fourteen  years  old.  Appoint- 
ments are  made  at  saloons  to  meet  at  a  named  house 
in  the  night.  Low  theatres,  low  and  vile  restaurants, 
and  dance  cellars  bring  up  custom.  Women  can  be 
seen  going  in  from  nine  to  ten  at  night  with  pitchers, 
plates,  and  household  articles  in  their  hands.  They  go 
to  keep  an  appointment  previously  made ;  and  they  go 
out  from  home  with  the  articles  in  their  hands  under 
pretence  of  buying  something  for  breakfast,  leaving 
husband  or  father  asleep  from  toil.  But  more  than  all, 
people  come  in  coaches  —  some,  private  ones.  The 
coachman  has  his  eye-teeth  cut.  He  knows  what  is 


IN  NEW  YORK.  427 

going  on.  But  the  mistress  or  master  has  made  it  all 
right  with  him.  From  the  heated  soiree,  where  wine 
has  flowed  in  abundance,  from  the  opera  or  concert, 
the  parties  take  a  ride  in  the  locality  of  a  bed-house, 
and  pass  an  hour  or  so  in  it,  before  the  coach  goes  to- 
the  stable,  and  the  mistress  or  man  unlocks  the  hall 
door  with  the  pass  key.  From  twelve  to  two,  elegant 
coaches  and  plain  hacks  can  be  seen  before  the  doors 
of  these  lodging  houses,  waiting  for  company  —  the  wo- 
men deeply  veiled,  the  men  so  wrapped  up  that  recog- 
nition is  not  common.  Houses  in  low  localities  are 
preferred  if  clean ;  if  in  better  localities,  the  coming  and 
going  of  coaches  would  attract  attention.  Lodgings 
are  cheap,  and  run  from  fifty  cents  to  ten  dollars. 
Parties  remain  all  night  if  they  choose.  The  doors  are 
never  closed.  They  stand  open  night  and  day.  Knock 
when  customers  may,  they  will  find  a  welcome. 

WOMEN    ON   THE   PAVE. 

For  a  half  century  the  streets  running  parallel  to 
Broadway,  on  either  side,  from  Canal  to  Bleecker,  have 
been  the  abode  of  women  who  walk  the  streets.  In 
walk,  manners,  dress,  and  appearance  they  resemble 
the  women  of  their  class,  who,  three  thousand  years 
ago,  plied  their  wretched  trade  under  the  eye  of  Solo- 
mon. About  eight  o'clock  they  come  out  of  their  dens 
to  the  broad  pavement, —  up  and  down,  down  and  up, 
leering  at  men,  and  asking  for  company  or  for  help. 
At  eleven  at  night,  when  the  street  is  clear,  and  not  a 
soul  is  to  be  seen,  as  a  man  passes  a  corner,  all  at  once 
a  flutter  will  be  heard,  and  a  woman  flitting  out  from  a 
side  street,  where  she  has  been  watching  for  her  victim, 


428  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

will  seize  a  man  by  the  arm,  and  cry  out,  "  Charlie,  how 
are  you  ?  "  or,  "  Where  are  you  going  ? "  If  the  man 
stops  for  a  talk,  he  will  probably  follow  the  woman,  as 
an  "  ox  goeth  to  the  slaughter."  On  passing  a  man  on 
the  street,  if  the  party  looks  after  the  woman,  her  keen 
sight  detects  the  slight  move,  and  she  turns  and  follows 
the  looker-on.  Some  of  these  walkers  are  splendidly 
educated.  Some  take  their  first  lessons  in  degrada- 
tion on  the  pave.  Love  of  dress  and  finery,  unwilling- 
ness to  work,  a  pique  at  a  lover,  a  miff  at  the  stern 
family  arrangement,  are  causes  enough  to  send  a  young 
girl  on  the  street. 

AN    INCIDENT. 

A  gentleman  in  this  city  employs  in  his  factory  a 
large  number  of  females.  H£^J%  quite  careful  to  get 
respectable  girls.  He  demanfts  a  written  testimonial 
before  he  will  admit  any  one.  Among  those  at  work 
for  him  were  two  sisters.  They  were  models  of  pro- 
priety and  order.  They  were  neat  in  their  dress.  Eilfly 
and  punctual  they  were  at  work.  They  mingled  but 
little  in  society ;  were  quite  reserved  in  their  conversa- 
tions ;  said  but  little,  and  kept  constantly  at  work. 
Their  quiet  and  industrious  manners,  silent  and  resolute 
conduct,  living  seemingly  forA  each  other,  and  always 
acting  as  if  some  great  secret  weighed  them  down,  or 
bound  them  together,  called  out  the  sympathy  of  their 
employer.  But  they  resisted  all  sympathy,  refused  to 
make  him  their  confidant,  and  asked  only  to  be  left 
alone.  They  came  and  went  regularly  as  the  sun. 
One  night  this  gentleman  was  walking  alone  on  Broad- 
way quite  late.  As  he  passed  Houston  Street  a  young 
girl  accosted  him.  The  tones  of  her  voice  seemed 


IN   NEW  YORK.  429 

familiar.  He  drew  her  to  the  gas  light.  The  moment 
he  did  so  the  girl  gave  a  scream,  darted  down  the 
street,  and  was  out  of  sight  in  a  moment.  She  was 
one  of  the  model  sisters  in  his  factory.  The  next 
morning  the  girls  were  not  in  their  usual  place,  and 
he  saw  them  no  more.  All  that  he  could  hear  of  them 
was,  that  long  before  they  came  to  his  factory  they 
were  on  the  street.  Each  night  while  in  his  employ 
they  followed  street-walking  as  a  vocation.  All  they 
ever  said  about  themselves  was  said  to  one  who,  in  the 
factory,  had  somewhat  won  upon  their  confidence. 
They  refused  to  join  in  some  pastime  proposed,  and 
gave  as  a  reason,  that  they  had  no  money  to  spend  on 
themselves  ;  they  were  saving,  they  said,  all  the  money 
they  could  get  to  take  up  the  mortgage  upon  their 
father's  farm,  as  he  was  old  and  feeble.  Filial  love  could 
do  no  more  than  this ! 

The  Eighth  and  Fifteenth  wards  are  crowded  with 
tenement-houses.  Suites  of  rooms,  at  a  low  rent,  suit- 
able for  cheap  house-keeping,  can  be  had.  And  here 
the  same  class  of  street-walkers  are  found  when  at 
home. 

HOW    STREET-WALKERS    APPEAR. 

Girls  new  to  the  business  are  flush  in  health,  well- 
dressed,  and  attractive.  They  visit  theatres,  ride  in 
cars,  go  in  omnibuses,  hang  round  the  hotel  doors,  and 
solicit  company  with  their  eyes  and  manner,  rather 
than  by  their  speech.  This  class  throng  the  watering- 
places.  They  travel  up  and  down  the  North  River. 
Two  or  three  of  them  take  a  state-room,  and  move 
round  among  the  passengers  soliciting  company.  This 
custom  became,  the  past  summer,  a  great  nuisance. 


430  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

Lady  passengers  were  annoyed,  both  in  their  state- 
rooms and  out,  with  the  conduct  and  vile  talk  in  the 
rooms  near  them.  Some,  unwilling  to  be  so  annoyed, 
left  their  rooms  and  remained  in  the  saloons  all  night. 
Broadway  is  not  a  more  noted  place  for  women  of  this 
class  than  are  the  boats  on  the  North  River. 

From  this  grade  the  class  descends  to  mere  ragged, 
bloated,  drunken  dregs,  who  offend  all  decency  as  they 
ply  their  trade.  The  second  season  reveals  the  de- 
structive power  of  this  mode  of  life.  Pale,  young  wo- 
men, thin  and  wan  ;  women  who  know  early  what  it 
is  to  want  fuel  and  food ;  women  scantily  clad,  who 
shiver  as  they  tell  their  tale  and  ask  relief;  women 
who  know  that  life  is  brief,  and  the  future  without 
hope  —  such  persons  compose  the  great  mass  of  street- 
walkers. A  short  life  they  lead,  and  if  their  tale  is 
true,  it  is  not  a  merry  one. 

The  court-room  of  the  Tombs  on  Sunday  morning,  at 
six  o'clock,  is  a  suggestive  place.  Children  from  twelve 
to  sixteen ;  women  from  sixteen  to  sixty ;  women  on 
their  first  debauch,  in  all  their  finery,  and  tinsel,  and 
pride,  with  the  flush  of  beauty  on  their  cheeks,  with 
which  they  hope  to  win  in  the  path  they  have  chosen, 
and  from  whose  faces  the  blush  has  not  yet  passed 
away  forever  ;  and  persons  in  their  last  debauch,  with- 
out anything  that  marks  the  woman  left  to  them,  — 
these  indicate  the  life  and  the  doom  of  New  York 
street-walkers. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  431 


LII. 

HOUSES    OF    ASSIGNATION. 

THE  number  of  these  places  of  resort  in  the  city 
cannot  be  known.  The  public  houses  are  many,  and 
are  well  known.  But  in  all  parts  of  the  city,  houses, 
private  and  public,  are  kept  for  company,  and  most  of 
them  in  the  midst  of  the  fashionable  and  elite  of  the 
city. 

Most  of  these  places  are  known  by  advertisements, 
which  are  well  understood.  A  house  in  upper  New 
York,  in  a  fine  location,  is  selected.  It  is  plainly 
furnished,  or  quite  gaudily,  as  the  style  of  the  house 
may  permit.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  a  down- 
town merchant  to  take  a  house,  furnish  it,  hire  a  house- 
keeper, use  as  many  rooms  as  he  may  wish,  and  then 
allow  the  woman  to  let  out  the  rooms  to  regular 
boarders,  or  nightly,  to  parties  who  may  come  for  an 
evening,  or  who  may  previously  have  engaged  a  room. 
Parties  hire  a  room  by  the  week  or  month,  pay  in  ad- 
vance, and  come  and  go  when  they  please.  "  A  wridow 
lady,  with  more  rooms  than  she  can  use  ;  "  "  rooms  to 
let  to  quiet  persons ;  "  "  apartments  to  let  where  people 
are  not  inquisitive  ; "  "rooms  to  let,  with  board  for  the 
lady  only,"  are  of  this  class. 

To  a  stranger  in  the  city,  a  search  for  board  is  quite 


432  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

hazardous.  A  family  that  is  not  well  known  may  not 
be  reputable.  One  with  a  wife  and  family  of  daughters 
is  quite  as  likely  to  get  into  a  house  of  assignation  as 
anywhere  else.  No  reputable  lady,  who  keeps  a 
boarding-house,  will  take  a  gentleman  and  woman  to 
board  of  whom  she  knows  nothing.  Parties  must  come 
well  recommended,  and  the  fact  of  marriage  must  be 
well  known. 

Cheap  hotels  are  used  for  purposes  of  infamy.  The 
hotels  that  rent  rooms  by  the  day  are  not  particular 
what  relation  parties  sustain  to  each  other,  so  long  as 
the  rent  is  promptly  paid,  and  no  one  disturbs  the 
peace.  One  or*  two  houses  up  town,  run  on  the  Eu- 
ropean plan,  became  so  notorious  as  resorts  of  the 
abandoned,  that  they  were  compelled  to  close,  or  enter- 
tain the  lowest  and  most  vile.  First-class  hotel  keepers 
have  quite  as  much  as  they  can  do  to  keep  their  houses 
free  from  this  social  nuisance.  Men  and  women  take 

rooms,  and  are  registered  as  Mr.  and  Mrs. .  The 

relation  of  the  parties  may  be  veiled  for  a  day  or  so  ; 
but  the  keen  eyes  of  hotel  men  soon  detect  the  position 
of  the  parties,  and  then  they  are  packed  off,  be  it  day 
or  night.  Without  this  precaution  no  respectable 
house  could  be  kept. 

Some  time  since  a  reverend  gentleman  was  at  a 
leading  hotel,  where  he  staid  some  days.  He  was  in 
a  fine  position  in  a  neighboring  city,  and  had  much 
personal  wealth.  He  Was  of  the  old  school,  wore  a 
decidedly  clerical  dress  —  white  cravat  and  black  suit. 
At  the  table,  near  him,  sat  a  well-dressed,  quiet  lady, 
not  more  than  twenty-five  years  of  age.  She  said  but 
little,  was  elegantly  arrayed,  wore  few  ornaments,  and 


IN  NEW  YORK.  433 

those  of  great  value,  indicating  wealth  and  taste.  She 
accepted  the  attentions  the  courteous  clergyman 
bestowed.  She  seemed  to  be  quite  alone,  seldom 
spoke  to  any  one,  made  no  acquaintances,  and  came  in 
and  went  out  unattended.  A  table  acquaintance 
sprang  up.  The  husband  of  the  lady  was  a  merchant, 
then  out  of  the  city  on  business,  and  would  be  back  in 
a  few  days ;  the  lady  was  quite  alone ;  knew  but  few 
persons  ;  so  strange  to  be  in  a  hotel  alone  in  a  large 
place  like  New  York ;  it  was  not  always  safe  to  make 
acquaintances  in  a  city,  —  so  she  said.  The  acquaint- 
ance ripened  ;  new  attentions  were  proffered  and  ac- 
cepted. The  parties  met  in  the  rjarlor,  and  went 
together  to  the  public  table.  Soon  the  husband  came, 
and  made  one  of  the  trio.  He  was  a  quiet,  gentle- 
manly-looking man,  dressed  in  a  nice  black  suit ;  and 
his  jewels,  that  shone  from  his  finger  and  his  shirt- 
bosom,  were  all  that  indicated  that  he  was  not  a  man 
of  the  cloth.  He  drank  a  glass  of  wine  with  the  at- 
tentive doctor,  and  thanked  him  for  the  kind  and 
considerate  attention  his  wife  had  received  from  his 
hands.  One  day,  as  the  parties  sat  at  their  meals, 
quite  cosy  and  chatting,  a  merchant  came  to  dine.  He 
was  well  acquainted  both  with  the  clergyman  and 
with  the  merchant  and  his  wife.  An  interview  was 
soon  had  between  the  new  comer  and  the  divine. 
"How  long  have  you  been  acquainted  with  those 
parties  you  were  to-day  dining  with  ? "  said  the  mer- 
chant. "Only  a  week  or  so."  "Do  you  know  who 
they  are  ?  "  "  0,  yes ;  he  is  a  wealthy  merchant  of 
this  city,  and  the  lady  is  his  wife,  and  a  remarkably 
modest  and  agreeable  woman  she  is."  "  The  man  is 
28 


434  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

not  a  merchant.  He  is  one  of  the  most  notorious 
gamblers  in  the  city,  and  the  woman  is  not  his  wife.'* 
Without  bidding  adieu  to  his  newly-formed  acquaint- 
ances, the  clergyman  paid  his  bill  and  departed,  with  a 
firm  resolution  never  again  to  be  misled  by  appear- 
ances, never  to  form  intimate  associations  with  strange 
men  and  women  at  a  hotel,  and  never  to  be  gallant  to 
a  lady  he  knew  nothing  about. 


* 


IN  NEW  YORK.  435 


LIU. 

HARRY    HILL'S    DANCE-HOUSE. 

<w 

WHO  IS  HARRY  HILL  ?  —  THE  DANCE-HALL.  —  INSIDE  VIEW.  —  THE  COM- 
PANY. —  A  DARK  PAGE  TO  READ.  —  THE  PASTIMES.  —  THE  MANAGER.  — 
WRECKS  OF  CHARACTER. 

No  description  of  New  York  would  be  complete 
without  a  notice  of  the  notorious  Dance-House  kept  by 
Harry  Hill.  You  can  find  dance-houses,  drinking 
saloons,  and  places  of  resort  for  the  high  and  low,  the 
respectable  and  vile.  But  one  house  in  New  York 
comprises  all  classes  and  conditions.  It  is  the  pride  of 
Harry  Hill  that  judges,  lawyers,  merchants,  politicians, 
members  of  Congress  and  of  the  Legislature,  doctors, 
and  other  professional  men,  visit  and  patronize  his 
place.  And  no  public  resort  of  any  description  in  the 
city  is  better  known. 

WHO   IS   HARRY   HILL? 

He  is  a  man  about  fifty  years  of  age,  small,  stocky, 
muscular  —  a  complete  type  of  the  pugilist.  He  keeps 
the  peace  of  his  own  concern,  and  does  not  hesitate 
to  knock  any  man  down,  or  throw  him  out  of  the 
door,  if  he  breaks  any  of  the  rules  of  the  establish- 


436  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

merit.  Aside  from  his  business,  Mr.  Hill  is  regarded 
as  a  fair  and  honorable  trader,  a  man  who  keeps  his 
word,  is  generous  and  noble  in  his  impulses,  kind  to 
the  poor,  and  large  in  his  gifts  to  charity. 

For  twelve  years  he  has  kept  one  of  the  most  noted 
dance-houses  in  the  city.  His  rooms  are  constantly 
crowded,  and  the  profits  of  his  hall  and  bar  are  esti- 
mated at  one  thousand  dollars  a  week  over  all  ex- 
penses. He  attends  closely  to  all  departments  of  his 
trade.  He  is  at  the  bar ;  in  the  hall,  where  the  dan- 
cers must  be  kept  on  the  floor  ;  at  the  stage,  where 
the  low  comedies  and  broad  farces  are  played.  He 
.keeps  the  roughs  and  bullies  in  order ;  he  keeps  jeal- 
ous women  from  tearing  out  each  other's  eyes ;  he 
keeps  the  noisy  drunkard  quiet.  With  burly  face  and 
stocky  form,  he  can  be  seen  in  all  parts  of  the  hall, 
shouting  out,  "  Order !  order  !  "  —  "  Less  noise  there  !  " 
—  «  Attention !  "  —  "  Girls,  be  quiet !  "  —  and  these  he 
shouts  all  the  evening. 

THE   DANCE-HALL. 

This  is  situated  on  Houston  Street,  near  Broadway. 
The  building  is  of  wood,  two  stories  high,  and  very  low 
studded.  A  huge  lantern,  hanging  over  the  door,  with 
its  red  and  blue  glass,  is  a  signal  to  all  comers.  In  the 
lower  part  is  a  bar,  with  a  counter  for  refreshments. 
Through  a  narrow  lane,  between  the  counters,  the 
company  pass  into  the  hall  up  stairs.  No  one  is 
allowed  to  go  up  unless  the  admission  fee  of  twenty- 
five  cents  is  paid.  Usually  a  dish  of  oysters  and  some- 
thing to  drink  are  added  to  the  fee.  Most  of  this  is 
clear  gain  to  Mr.  Hill.  A  private  door  admits  the 


IN   NEW  YORK.  437 

women.     They  are  allowed  to  go  in  free,  as  the  dance 
would  not  amount  to  much  without  them. 

INSIDE  VIEW. 

The  hall  is  a  curiosity.  It  is  very  low  studded.  It 
was  originally  composed  of  many  quite  small  rooms. 
But  partition  after  partition  has  been  knocked  away, 
and  room  added  to  room,  till  the  hall  is  very  large. 
The  ceilings  are  of  different  heights,  and  remain  as 
originally  built.  %  A  more  homely  room  cannot  be 
found  in  New  York.  The  walls  are  covered  with 
pictures,  and  not  one  indecent  or  objectionable  one 
can  be  seen.  The  rules  of  the  house  are  hung  up  in 
conspicuous  places,  and  are  put  in  the  form  of  poetry. 
The  pith  of  these  rules  is,  "  No  loud  talking ;  no  pro- 
fanity; no  obscene  or  indecent  expression  will  be 
allowed  ;  no  one  drunken,  and  no  one  violating  de- 
cency, will  be  permitted  to  remain  in  the  room  ;  no 
man  can  sit  and  allow  a  woman  to  stand ;  all  must 
call  for  refreshments  as  soon  as  they  arrive  ;  the  call 
must  be  repeated  after  each  dance  ;  and  if  a  man  does 
not  dance,  he  must  leave."  The  profits  of  the  concern 
are  connected  with  the  bar,  and  that  must  be  liberally 
and  constantly  patronized.  There  is  no  bar  in  the 
hall,  but  a  long  counter  occupies  one  side.  After  the 
dance,  each  man  takes  his  partner  to  the  counter. 
Here  he  orders  what  he  will,  and  the  refreshments  are 
sent  up  from  below.  The  rules  are  quite  rigidly  en- 
forced, and  the  penalty  for  neglect  is  summarily  in- 
flicted. 


438  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


THE   COMPANY. 

The  crowd  is  at  all  times  great.  Benches  range 
around  the  sides  of  the  room.  Out  of  one  hundred 
girls  and  women  present,  not  one  can  be  found  who 
has  not  started  on  the  road  to  ruin.  They  occupy  the 
benches,  and  by  their  side  sit  the  partners  whom  they 
have  chosen  for  the  evening.  Most  of  the  women  are 
young  —  most  of  them  mere  girls.  The  decay  and 
degradation  that  are  seen  at  the  Water  Street  dance- 
houses  are  not  seen  at  Harry  Hill's.  The  women  are 
of  a  superior  class.  Most  of  them  have  just  begun 
their  life  of  shame.  The  crimson  hue  has  not  left  their 
cheeks.  Some  of  them  are  very  pretty.  Their  dresses 
are  rich.  They  wear  satin,  silk,  velvet,  and  many 
jewels.  Some  have  on  a  full  dress ;  some  have  on  an 
opera  attire.  They  would  pass  well  in  any  station  ; 
they  would  not  appear  bad  at  church,  or  at  a  concert ; 
they  would  attract  attention  at  a  soiree  ;  they  would 
appear  well  in  a  Sunday  school.  In  less  than  two 
years  not  one  of  these  gay  and  elegantly-dressed 
throng  will  be  seen  at  Harry  Hill's.  They  will  drink, 
behave  indecently,  and  the  stern  command  of  the  pro- 
prietor will  bid  them  "  clear  out."  They  will  be  found, 
if  alive,  in  the  stews  and  viler  dance-houses  of  low 
New  York.  It  is  the  capital  of  Harry  Hill  to  keep  a 
reputable  vile  house,  and  he  will  do  it.  None  but 
well-dressed  and  well-behaved  girls  can  walk  his  saloon. 
No  matter  who  they  are,  where  they  come  from,  what 
appointments  they  make,  where  they  go  when  they 
leave  his  place,  —  while  there,  they  must  behave.  In 
that  low,  dingy  room,  on  hard  benches,  sawdust  floors, 


IN  NEW   YORK.  439 

and  walls  and  ceilings  that  indicate  the  building  to  be 
no  better  than  a  cheap,  wooden  tenement-house,  the 
elite  of  the  women  of  the  town  gather  nightly.  The 
white  patten,  crimson  and  gaudy  dress,  rich  velvets, 
cloaks,  and  genteel  attires,  make  the  dingy  room  look 
as  if  upper  New  York,  in  their  best  outfit,  had  taken 
possession  of  a  low  dwelling  at  Five  Points  for  an 
evening. 

A    DARK    PAGE   TO    READ. 

A  sadder  story  of  New  York  life  cannot  be  written 
than  that  connected  with  this  place.  Girls  of  great 
promise  and  education  ;  girls  accomplished,  and  fitted 
to  adorn  any  station ;  girls  from  country  homes,  and 
from  the  city ;  missing  maidens  ;  wives  who  have  run 
away  from  their  husbands ;  girls  who  have  eloped  with 
lovers ;  girls  from  shops  and  factory,  from  trade  and 
the  saloon,  can  here  be  seen  in  the  dance.  The  only 
child  of  a  judge,  the  wife  of  an  eminent  lawyer, 
showy,  flashy,  and  elegantly  dressed,  and  women  of  a 
lower  degree,  all  mingle.  They  come  and  go  as  they 
will.  Women  who  have  good  homes  and  confiding 
husbands,  girls  whose  mothers  know  not  where  they 
are,  and  would  rather  bury  them  than  know  that  they 
went  in  such  company,  are  at  this  hall.  The  quantity 
of  liquor  these  women  drink  is  astonishing.  After 
each  dance  the  company  go  to  the  bar  and  drink. 
They  drink  champagne  when  their  partners  can  afford 
it  Strong  liquors  are  in  demand  at  all  times.  It  is  no 
uncommon  thing  to  see  a  young  miss  take  a  half 
tumbler  of  undiluted  liquor,  and  toss  it  off  without 
winking.  At  midnight  the  doors  close,  and  the  com- 
pany depart  It  is  the  rule  of  Mr.  Hill  not  to  keep 


440  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

open  on  the  Sabbath,  and  he  plumes  himself  greatly 
on  his  piety.  But  the  dance  is  merry  till  midnight  on 
Saturday. 

The  men  who  here  meet  are  a  sight  to  behold. 
They  crowd  the  centre  of  the  floor,  and  jostle  each 
other  for  want  of  room.  Men  of  all  grades  and  all 
degrees  —  officers  in  uniform ;  sergeants  and  officers 
of  police  without  uniform ;  judges  of  courts,  and  lead- 
ing men  of  the  bar ;  merchants,  jewellers,  book-men, 
and  bankers ;  politicians,  and  candidates  for  the  high 
honors  in  the  state  and  nation  ;  clerks,  men,  boys,  with 
all  classes  and  kinds.  These  men  join  in  the  dance, 
drink  at  the  bar  and  flirt  with  the  women,  and  pay  the 
bills. 

THE   PASTIMES. 

As  the  name  indicates,  dancing,  with  drinking,  is  the 
great  pastime.  This  occupies  the  centre  of  the  room, 
and  is  kept  up  at  regular  intervals.  The  girls  are 
called  up  to  dance  by  the  stern  command  of  the  pro- 
prietor, and  he  must  be  obeyed.  This  tiresome  busi- 
ness is  carried  on  hour  after  hour.  Men  select  their 
partners  as  they  will.  If  they  do  not,  partners  are 
assigned  to  them.  The  dancers  are  free  and  loose.  The 
music  is  made  by  a  piano,  violin,  double  bass,  and  other 
instruments.  During  the  evening  all  the  men  present 
join  in  the  dance.  When  that  is  over,  and  drinks 
taken,  the  girls  move  round  the  room  among  the  com- 
pany, and  secure  a  companion  for  the  next  dance  and 
for  the  night. 

In  one  corner  of  the  hall  there  is  a  small  stage.  Low 
actors,  suited  to  the  company,  perform  at  intervals. 
Punch  and  Judy  have  a  box  to  themselves,  and  enter- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  441 

tain  the  crowd.  Broad  songs  are  sung,  and  at  each 
improper  allusion,  profane  remark,  the  mention  of  the 
name  of  God.  or  anything  that  sneers  at  piety,  or  what 
the  religious  world  calls  sacred,  are  rapturously  ap- 
plauded. Thus,  amid  low  acting,  Punch  and  Judy, 
songs  and  drinking,  the  time  passes.  A  low,  vulgar 
performance,  called  Mrs.  Partington,  in  which  a  poor 
ventriloquist  and  a  dirty  rag  baby  are  the  chief  actors, 
is  repeated  several  times  in  the  evening. 

• 

THE   MANAGER. 

Under  Mr.  Hill  is  a  manager.  For  many  years  he 
has  been  in  charge  of  this  hall.  He  is  a  doctor  of 
medicine.  He  has  a  finished  education,  and  is  one  of 
the  best  newspaper  writers  in  the  city.  He  has  now, 
and  long  has  had,  a  place  on  a  leading  city  journal.  He 
could  earn  a  respectable  livelihood  anywhere.  He  is 
a  fine-looking  man,  and  though  sixty-five  years  old,  no 
one  would  take  him  to  be  over  forty-five.  He  is  erect, 
with  dark  hair,  dresses  genteelly  in  a  black  suit,  and  is 
one  of  the  best  informed  men  of  the  country.  Yet  he 
flings  all  his  gifts  away,  and  consents  to  be  the  manager 
of  this  dance-house,  from  night  to  night,  and  from  year 
to  year,  pandering  to  the  lowest  vices,  passions,  and 
persons  of  the  city.  New  York  is  full  of  such  ruins. 

WRECKS    OF    CHARACTER. 

Harry  Hill  is  quite  free  to  converse  about  men  and 
things  pertaining  to  his  concern.  He  keeps  the  names 
of  prominent  persons  who  patronize  his  establishment. 
He  believes  that  men  have  fits  of  dissipation  from  too 
close  attention  to  business ;  from  ventures  that  are  too 


442  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

much  for  them,  and  losses  or  reverses.  Prominent 
merchants,  eminent  men,  representatives  of  trade  in  all 
its  branches,  men  very  regular  in  ordinary  times,  visit 
his  rooms.  Once  a  year,  once  a  quarter,  they  come. 
The  proprietor  keeps  a  watch  over  them,  and  when  he 
thinks  they  have  drank  enough,  either  removes  them 
or  sends  for  their  friends.  From  the  stews  of  New 
York,  heated  and  often  maddened  by  poisoned  liquor, 
men  come  for  a  dance  with  the  gay  throng  in  this 
hall.  They  bring  wdth  them  money,  from  five  thousand 
to  fifty  thousand  dollars,  which  they  are  just  drunk 
enough  to  show.  If  Mr.  Hill  knows  the  parties,  he 
interposes  and  saves  them  from  loss.  If  he  does  not 
know  them,  he  lets  things  take  their  course.  Only 
there  must  be  no  robbery  within  his  walls.  Whatever 
bargains  are  made,  alliances  formed,  traps  set,  the 
victim  must  not  be  snared  in  the  dance-room  of  Harry 
Hill.  It  is  his  boast  that  no  person  was  ever  robbed 
of  watch,  jewels,  or  money  since  he  threw  his  doors 
open  twelve  years  ago.  Whatever  crime  is  committed, 
it  is  done  outside,  and  the  police  trace  nothing  to  that 
establishment.  The  room  is  full  of  thieves,  pick- 
pockets, prize-fighters,  bullies,  short-boys,  and  denizens 
of  the  bloody  sixth  ;  females  of  all  grades,  shoplifters, 
counterfeiters,  women  just  out  of  the  State  Prison, 
panel-thieves,  and  females  whose  trade  it  is  to  get 
employment  in  houses  as  domestics  only  to  commit 
robbery,  or  admit  robbers  to  the  dwelling.  By  the 
side  of  a  police  sergeant  sits  a  panel-thief.  By  the  side 
of  a  Broadway  jeweller  sits  a  noted  shoplifter.  A  con- 
fidential clerk  of  a  down-town  store  is  drinking  with  a 
miss  who  looks  as  if  she  had  left  her  fashionable  board- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  443 

ing-school  just  after  tea.  A  lawyer  of  repute  can  be 
seen  drinking  with  a  prize-fighter,  and  respectable 
business  men  mingle  cosily  with  desperate  New  York 
males  and  females.  But  few  men  with  money  reach 
their  homes  till  they  are  plucked  of  the  cash  they 
vaunt  so  boastingly,  lucky  if  watch  and  jewels,  under 
the  drug,  are  not  also  taken. 

In  such  dens  as  these  the  ruin  of  well-to-do  men  is 
laid.  Entering  from  curiosity,  they  become  customers, 
and  then  victims.  Ketchum  and  Jenkins  took  their 
first  lesson  in  these  respectable  dance-houses.  Bank 
clerks,  and  young  men  in  confidential  positions,  go  to 
laugh  and  have  a  jolly  time  of  an  evening.  They  are 
ensnared  before  they  know  it.  In  the  lap  of  Delilah 
their  locks  are  shorn,  and  their  strength  departs. 

A    STARTLING    CASE. 

A  young  man  in  this  city  represented  a  New  Eng- 
land house  of  great  wealth  and  high  standing.  He 
was  considered  one  of  the  smartest  and  most  promising 
young  men  in  New  York.  The  balance  in  the  bank 
kept  by  the  house  was  very  large,  and  the  young  man 
used  to  boast  that  he  could  draw  his  check  any  day  for 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars  and  have  it  honored. 
The  New  England  house  used  a  great  deal  of  paper, 
and  it  could  command  the  names  of  the  best  capitalists 
to  any  extent.  One  gentleman,  a  member  of  Con- 
gress, was  reputed  to  be  worth  over  half  a  million  of 
dollars.  He  was  accustomed  to  sign  notes  in  blank  and 
leave  them  with  the  concern,  so  much  confidence  had 
he  in  its  soundness  and  integrity.  Yet,  strange  to  say, 
these  notes,  with  those  of  other  wealthy  men,  with 


444  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

nearly  the  whole  financial  business  of  the  house,  were 
in  the  hands  of  the  young  manager  in  New  York,  who, 
with  none  to  check  or  control  him,  did  as  he  pleased 
with  the  funds.  Every  one  thought  him  honest.  Every 
one  confided  in  his  integrity.  All  believed  that  he  was 
doing  the  business  of  the  concern  squarely  and  with 
great  ability. 

In  the  mean  while  he  took  a  turn  at  Harry  Hill's 
"  to  relieve  the  pressure  of  business."  Low  amuse- 
ments, and  the  respectable  company  he  found,  suited 
him.  From  a  spectator  he  became  a  dancer.  From 
dancing  he  took  to  drinking.  From  the  bar  he  entered 
those  paths  to  which  Harry  Hill's  saloon  is  the  entrance. 
He  tried  his  hand  at  light  play.  He  then  went  into 
gaming  heavily,  was  stripped  every  night,  drinking 
deeply  all  the  while.  He  became  enamoured  with  fancy 
women,  clothed  them  in  silks,  velvets,  and  jewels,  drove 
them  in  dashing  teams  through  Central  Park,  secured 
them  fine  mansions,  and  paid  the  expenses  of  the  estab- 
lishments —  all  this  while  keeping  the  confidence  of 
his  business  associates.  His  wan,  jaded,  and  dissipated 
look  went  to  his  devotion  to  business.  Men  who  met 
him  daily  had  no  idea  that  he  was  bankrupt  in  char- 
acter, and  had  led  the  great  house  with  which  he  was 
connected  to  the  verge  of  ruin.  The  New  England 
manager  of  the  house  was  the  father  of  the  young 
man.  His  reputation  was  without  a  stain,  and  con- 
fidence in  his  integrity  was  unlimited.  He  had  the 
management  of  many  estates,  and  held  large  sums  of 
trust  money  in  his  hands  belonging  to  widows  and 
orphans.  In  the  midst  of  his  business,  in  apparent 
health,  the  father  dropped  down  dead.  This  brought 


IN  NEW   YORK.  445 

things  to  a  crisis,  and  an  exposure  immediately  fol- 
lowed. The  great  house  was  bankrupt,  and  every- 
body ruined  that  had  anything  to  do  with  it.  Those 
who  supposed  themselves  millionnaires  found  them- 
selves heavily  in  debt.  Widows  and  orphans  lost  their 
all.  Men  suspended  business  on  the  right  hand  and  on 
the  left.  In  gambling,  drinking,  in  female  society,  and 
in  dissipation  generally,  this  young  fellow  squandered 
the  great  sum  of  one  million  four  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  He  carried  down  with  him  hundreds  of  per- 
sons whom  his  vices  and  dissipation  had  ruined.  And 
this  is  but  a  specimen  of  the  reverses  to  which  a  fast 
New  York  life  leads.  He  may  be  seen  any  day  reeling 
about  the  street,  lounging  around  bar-rooms,  or  at- 
tempting to  steady  his  steps  as  he  walks  up  and  down 
the  hotel  entrances  of  the  city.  A  sad  wreck !  a  terrible 
warning ! 


446  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


LIV. 

THE    FRIENDS     IN    NEW    YORK. 

THE  SECT.  —  A  QUAKER  MEETING-HOUSE.  —  SABBATH  SERVICE.  — THE  PREACH- 
ING. —  YEARLY  MEETING. 

THE   SECT. 

THE  sect  usually  called  Quakers  are  known  to  each 
other  as  Friends.  They  are  not  numerous,  and  cannot 
well  be.  The  large  portion  of  them  are  wealthy,  and 
live  in  fine  style,  surrounded  with  all  the  appliances 
that  belong  to  cultivated  life.  Their  children  enjoy 
every  advantage  of  education  and  culture  that  can  be 
secured.  They  mingle  with  the  world,  catch  its  cus- 
toms, and  withdraw  gradually  from  the  plain  and  sim- 
ple manners  of  their  parents,  wear  the  gay  attire  of 
fashionable  life,  and  when  they  settle  down,  take  the 
position  which  their  wealth  and  culture  presents.  It 
is  a  common  thing  in  New  York  for  the  children  of 
wealthy  Friends  to  leave  the  plain  and  unostentatious 
worship  in  which  they  have  been  trained,  and  attend 
the  imposing  services  of  some  liturgical  church.  The 
sect  in  New  York  ranks  among  our  best  and  most 
wealthy  citizens.  On  'change  they  are  foremost  among 
the  solid  merchants  of  New  York.  They  are  emi- 
nent in  works  of  charity  and  humanity.  The  up-town 


IN  NEW  YORK.  447 

movement,  which  has  driven  from  the  lower  part  of  the 
city  so  many  houses  of  worship,  has  not  spared  the 
Friends.  Their  fine  down-town  meeting-houses  have 
been  abandoned  to  gas  companies,  public  schools, 
livery  stables,  places  of  amusement,  and  to  trade. 

A    QUAKER  MEETING-HOUSE. 

These  buildings  are  among  the  institutions  of  the 
city,  and  have  marked  peculiarities.  The  Friends  do  not 
go  to  church,  but  to  meeting.  Their  places  of  assembly 
are  called,  not  churches,  but  meeting-houses.  Such  a 
building  looks  like  an  oasis  in  a  desert.  It  stands  in 
the  centre  of  a  plot  of  ground  made  lip  of  several  lots. 
The  grass  is  green,  and  is  kept  in  the  neatest  manner. 
The  house  is  of  brick,  very  large,  and  barn-like  in  its 
appearance.  Amid  merchandise,  the  confusion  and 
turmoil  of  city  traffic,  it  stands  in  the  quiet  of  its  own 
position,  guarded  by  the  substantial  wall  that  surrounds 
the  lot,  indicating  repose  and  thrift.  Nothing  can  be 
plainer  than  the  inside  of  the  meeting-house.  No 
part  is  painted  except  the  front  of  the  gallery.  The 
seats  are  mere  benches,  scoured  to  a  snowy  whiteness. 
The  men  and  women  sit  apart,  and  the  house  is  so 
arranged  that  the  two  parts  can  be  closed  for  the 
transaction  of  business  if  necessary.  When  business  is 
transacted,  the  women  and  the  men  hold  separate  ses- 
sions. The  old  custom  of  seating  people  according  to 
rank  and  age  is  to  be  found  in  the  meeting-house  of 
Friends.  The  greatest  deference  is  paid  to  age  and 
infirmity.  No  rudeness,  or  impertinence,  or  forward- 
ness on  the  part  of  children  is  allowed.  The  respect 
and  deference  paid  to  their  superiors  during  public 


448  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

service,  by  the  younger  portion  of  the  congregation,  are 
very  marked.  The  youth  have  seats  assigned  them  in 
the  gallery,  which  they  occupy.  In  the  place  where  in 
modern  churches  the  pulpit  stands,  in  the  Friends' 
meeting-house  there  is  reared  a  gallery  for  the  elders. 
These  "  chief  seats  "  in  the  assembly  are  filled  by  the 
rulers'  of  the  meeting.  Over  their  heads  is  a  broad 
canopy  not  unlike  a  New  England  sounding-board. 

SABBATH    SERVICE. 

The  Friends  are  not  strict  Sabbatarians.  They  take 
literally  the  command  of  the  Apostle,  —  "  Let  no  man, 
therefore,  judge  you  in  respect  to  a  holy  day,  or  of  the 
new  moon,  or  of  the  Sabbath  days."  The  first  day  of 
the  week  is  not  unobserved,  but  other  days  are  as 
sacred.  Meeting  is  held  on  our  Lord's  Day,  and  great 
interest  clusters  around  the  house  when  the  hour  of 
service  arrives.  Men  pass  into  the  plain  structure 
whose  garb  gives  small  indication  that  they  are  of  this 
peculiar  people.  Their  names  are  well  known  among 
merchant  princes  and  among  the  professions.  Car- 
riages line  the  sidewalks,  fine  turnouts  drive  up  to  the 
door  with  footman  and  coachman  in  livery.  The  old 
line  of  Friends  wear  the  costume  of  the  last  century. 
Many  compromise  the  matters  in  dress  so  that  it  is 
difficult  to  tell  whether  they  belong  to  the  meeting  or 
to  the  world.  The  larger  part  of  the  meeting,  how- 
ever, are  dressed  in  modern  style,  and  conform  to  the 
fashions  quite  sharply.  Some  of  the  ladies  who  on 
First  Day  are  plainly  dressed,  and  yet  with  great 
elegance,  are  leaders  of  fashion  at  Saratoga  and  New- 
port. No  one  out-dresses  them  in  style  or  ornament 


IN  NEW   YORK.  449 

at  the  opera.  They  manage  the  matter  by  having 
two  styles  of  dresses  —  one  for  the  world,  the  other 
for  devotion. 

THE   PREACHING. 

In  a  fashionable  locality  *up  town  can  be  found  the 
leading  Friends'  meeting-house  of  New  York  with  its 
stone  front.  I  attended  service  one  Sunday  in  that 
place.  The  exercises  commenced  promptly  at  half  past 
ten,  by  a  general  silence  that  lasted  half  an  hour.  This 
was  broken  by  an  old  man  of  ninety,  who  made  an 
address  on  the  words,  "  That  thought  upon  His  name." 
Silence  followed  the  address  for  thirty  minutes.  An 
English  preacher  then  spoke  on  the  "  wedge  of  gold 
and  the  Babylonish  garment."  He  drew  a  sad  picture 
of  the  defection  and  worldliness  of  the  people  whom  he 
addressed.  He  especially  mourned  the  defection  of  the 
younger  members  of  the  society,  who,  seduced  by  the 
pomp  and  show  of  other  services,  found  in  these  the 
attractive  wedge  of  gold  and  the  fascinating  garment 
of  Babylon.  His  voice  was  thin  ;  he  paused  long  after 
each  sentence  ;  he  grasped  the  rail  with  both  hands 
with  earnest  energy,  and  was  followed  by  silence  so 
long  that  I  thought  it  would  not  again  be  broken.  The 
wife  of  the  English  speaker  at  length  arose,  and  with 
great  deliberation  divested  herself  of  bonnet  and  shawl, 
and  commenced  speaking.  Her  address  was  composed 
of  passages  of  Scripture  most  beautifully  joined  to- 
gether. Her  utterance  was  very  distinct,  her  cadence 
peculiar,  and  her  voice  so  sweet  that  it  rings  in  the  ear 
like  the  melody  of  a  beautiful  song.  The  sentiments 
uttered  and  the  manner  and  spirit  of  the  meeting  would 
have  been  regarded  as  evangelical  anywhere.  The 
29 


450  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

address  of  the  lady  was  followed  by  a  longer  pause. 
Many  were  employing  the  moments  in  devotion.  But 
I  saw  the  usual  number  of  sleepers  that  adorn  the 
assemblies  of  other  sects.  The  leaders  at  length  arose, 
and  shook  hands  with  each  other.  This  was  the  signal 
for  a  general  rising,  and  the  audience  dispersed. 

YEARLY  MEETING. 

This  annual  convocation  of  Friends  is  very  interest- 
ing, even  to  "  the  world's  people,"  as  the  Friends  call 
outsiders.  Most  of  the  business  is  private.  But  there 
are  daily  public  meetings  to  which  all  are  invited.  Not 
far  from  two  thousand  Friends  come  to  this  city  to 
hold  the  Yearly  Meeting.  Prominent  men  from  all 
portions  of  our  country  and  from  Europe  attend  as 
representatives.  Old  men  are  not  at  a  discount  among 
the  Friends.  It  is  customary  in  other  sects  to  consider 
a  minister  acceptable  according  to  his  youth.  When 
all  is  got  out  of  him  that  can  be  got,  and  a  minister  is 
old,  he  is  turned  aside  for  a  younger  man.  Among  the 
Friends,  age  is  a  passport  to  the  highest  honors  and  the 
most  respectful  attentions.  When  an  old  man  comes 
into  a  meeting,  young  men  meet  him  at  the  door  and 
escort  him  to  the  chief  seats.  When  an  aged  woman 
comes  in,  the  young  women  arise  and  lead  her  to  a 
comfortable  place,  and  put  cushions  under  her  feet. 
This  respect  for  age  is  patriarchal.  It  recalls  the  plains 
of  Mamre  and  the  fields  of  Boaz,  and  might  safely  be 
imitated  by  other  denominations.  In  the  Yearly 
Meeting  the  women  have  their  leaders,  as  do  the  men. 
They  hold  their  own  business  meetings,  and  admit  and 
cut  off  members.  Except  in  some  matters  that  demand 


IN  NEW  YORK.  451* 

the  approval  of  the  other  house,  they  are  as  indepen- 
dent as  if  there  was  not  a  man  in  the  land.  Like  other 
denominations,  the  Friends  are  broken  up  into  parties 
and  cliques.  Eadicals  disturb  the  peace  of  this  quiet 
fold ;  conservatism,  refusing  to  stir,  puts  on  the  brakes. 
They  know  the  divisions  of  the  Old  School  and  the  New. 
Those  who  believe  in,  and  those  who  deny  the  divinity 
of  the  Savior,  bear  the  name  of  Friends.  In  common 
with  all  devout  people,  they  mourn  the  degeneracy  of 
these  days,  and  sigh  for  the  better  times  in  which  their 
fathers  lived.  The  custom  of  cutting  off  those  who 
marry  outside  of  the  Meeting  takes  from  the  sect  the 
life  blood  by  which  it  is  to  be  nourished,  and  carries  its 
strength  to  other  churches. 


452  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


LV. 

THE    CHILDREN    OF    ABRAHAM. 

THE   JEWS   IK   NEW  YORK.  —  THE    SYNAGOGUES.  —  INNOVATIONS.  —  THE  FEAST 
OF  THE  PASSOVER.  —  JEWISH  SUNI>AY  SCHOOLS. 

THE  JEWS   IN  NEW    YORK. 

THE  people  of  Israel  are  very  numerous.  A  portion 
of  them  are  intelligent,  respectable,  and  wealthy.  The 
leading  bankers  are  Jews  of  this  class;  so  are  the 
importers,  who  have  almost  wholly  monopolized  a 
large  portion  of  the  foreign  trade.  But  the  Jews  of 
the  lower  class  are  disagreeable,  and  their  presence  a 
nuisance  to  any  Christian  neighborhood.  If  they  get 
into  a  block,  they  infest  it  like  the  plague.  Persons 
in  search  of  a  house  invariably  ask,  "Are  there  any 
Jews  in  the  block  ?  "  Their  social  customs  and  habits, 
their  pastimes,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  spend 
the  Sabbath,  are  so  unlike  our  own,  that  it  is  impossible 
to  dwell  with  them  with  any  comfort.  When  they  get 
into  a  neighborhood,  in  any  numbers,  it  is  deserted  by 
all  others.  There  are  some  beautiful  watering-places 
in  the  vicinity  of  New  York  where  the  Jews  hold 
entire  possession.  They  came  in  few  at  a  time,  and 
Christian  families  had  to  desert  the  place ;  they  could 
not  live  with  them.  One  of  the  large  hotels  at  Long 


IN   NEW   YORK.  453 

Branch  Is  the  rendezvous  of  Jewish  families.  A  new 
hotel,  erected  two  years  ago,  was  occupied  by  leading 
families  from  this  and  other  cities,  on  the  express 
condition  that  Jewish  women  and  children  should  not 
be  allowed  in  the  house.  Every  means  has  been 
resorted  to  by  the  people  of  Israel  to  get  rooms  in  this 
hotel,  and  fabulous  prices  offered.  But  up  to  this  time 
none  have  been  admitted.  A  half  dozen  families  would 
drive  away  all  who  were  not  of  Israel.  These  people 
may  be  just  as  good  as  Christians  morally,  yet  their 
social  customs  make  them  so  disagreeable  that  parties 
who  have  money  to  spend,  and  can  choose  their  loca- 
tion, will  not  dwell  with  them.  The  prophecy  uttered 
by  Balaam  over  three  thousand  years  ago,  that  "  Israel 
shall  dwell  alone,"  seems  to  have  a  literal  fulfilment. 

JEWS  OF  THE  LOWER  CLASS. 

Portions  of  the  city  on  the  east  side  are  wholly  given 
up  to  this  nation.  Chatham  Street  is  the  bazaar  of  the 
lower  Jews.  It  is  crowded  with  their  places  of  trade, 
and  over  their  stores  they  generally  live.  Noisy  and 
turbulent,  they  assail  all  who  pass,  solicit  trade,  and 
secure  general  attention  and  general  contempt.  They 
know  no  Sabbath.  On  Saturday,  their  national  Sab- 
bath, they  keep  open  stores  because  they  live  in  a 
Christian  country.  On  Sunday  they  trade  because 
they  are  Jews.  The  lower  class  of  this  people  are 
foreigners,  and  fraud  is  their  capital.  They  go  aboard 
of  an  emigrant  ship  with  their  worldly  effects  nailed  up 
in  a  small  wooden  box.  The  authorities  at  Castle 
Garden  know  them  well,  and  watch  them  on  their 
landing.  They  frequently  demand  a  plethoric  trunk, 


454  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

present  for  it  a  check,  and  carry  off  their  prize.  It  is 
their  custom  to  watch  their  chance  on  ship-board,  and 
transfer  the  label  from  their  own  mean  box  to  the 
well-filled  trunk  of  somebody  else.  They  often  leave 
the  old  country  without  means,  and  land  with  a  hand- 
some outfit,  plundered  from  some  luckless  emigrant. 

THE    SYNAGOGUES. 

These  are  very  numerous.  Some  of  them  are  very 
elegant  and  costly,  and  their  locations  are  unsurpassed. 
Following  the  pattern  after  which  the  synagogue  was 
built  in  which  the  Savior  preached  his  first  sermon  at 
Nazareth,  so  the  synagogues  in  New  York  are  built 
Men  worship  with  their  hats  on.  It  is  as  disrespectful 
to  take  your  hat  off  in  a  Jewish  synagogue  as  it  is  to 
keep  it  on  in  a  church.  The  men  sit  below.  Women 
sit  in  the  gallery,  and  they  are  not  allowed  to  enter 
the  enclosure  where  the  men  worship.  A  more  ir- 
reverent congregation,  apparently,  cannot  be  found 
than  the  Jews  at  worship.  They  wear  scarfs  over  their 
shoulders  while  engaged  in  devotions.  If  they  see  a 
person  they  wish  to  speak  to,  or  make  a  trade  with, 
they  take  the  scarf  off  their  shoulders,  throw  it  over 
their  arm,  and  talk  on  friendship  or  business,  as  the 
case  may  be,  and  then  replace  the  scarf  and  continue 
their  worship.  Psalms  are  sung,  led  by  a  ram's  horn; 
the  law  read,  as  it  was  in  Mount  Zion  in  the  days  of 
David  and  Solomon.  The  audience  room  looks  like  the 
Corn  Exchange.  The  centre  of  the  room  holds  a  plat- 
form, which  is  railed  in,  on  which  is  a  huge  table  for 
the  reading  of  the  law.  The  number  of  men  about  the 
table,  their  business-like  appearance,  their  bustling 


IN   NEW   YORK.  455 

back  and  forth  with  their  hats  on,  many  of  them  peer- 
ing over  the  same  book,  suggests  that  this  is  a  thriving 
mercantile  house,  where  a  good  business  is  carried  on 
by  earnest  men,  who  speak  in  a  foreign  tongue* 

INNOVATIONS. 

Even  Israel  has  its  troubles.  New  men  and  new 
measures  have  got  into  the  *synagogue,  filling  the 
friends  of  the  old  order  of  things  with  sorrow  and 
alarm.  The  Rabbis  preach  about  the  degeneracy  of 
the  times,  the  new-fangled  notions  of  this  age,  the 
abandonment  of  the  old  landmarks  of  the  fathers,  and 
the  better  days  of  the  olden  time.  The  wealthiest 
Jews  have  built  synagogues  according  to  modern 
ideas.  Families  do  not  sit  apart,  but  together  in  pews, 
according  to  the  Christian  ideas.  This  is  a  great 
scandal  of  the  faithful  in  Israel.  The  ram's  horn  is 
laid  aside,  and  a  costly  organ  leads  the  devotions. 
The  tunes  of  the  patriarchs  are  abandoned  for  the 
sweeter  melodies  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Not  in  religion  alone  are  these  innovations  found, 
but  they  touch  the  culinary  arrangements  of  the  Jews, 
and  affect  their  domestic  customs.  A  friend  of  mine, 
not  long  since,  was  invited  to  dine  with  a  wealthy  Jew, 
whose  name  is  well  known  among  the  most  eminent 
business  men  of  the  city.  The  table  was  elegantly 
spread,  and  among  the  dishes  wras  a  fine  ham  and  some 
oysters,  both  forbidden  by  the  law  of  Moses,  A  little 
surprised  to  see  these  prohibited  dishes  on  the  table, 
and  anxious  to  know  how  a  Jew  would  explain  the 
introduction  of  such  forbidden  food,  in  consistency 
with  his  allegiance  to  the  Mosaic  law,  my  friend  called 


•456  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  attention  of  the  Jew  to  their  presence.  "  Well," 
said  the  host,  "  I  belong  to  that  portion  of  the  people 
of  Israel  who  are  changing  the  customs  of  our  fathers 
to  conform  to  the  times  and  country  in  which  we  live. 
We  make  a  distinction  between  what  is  moral  in  the 
law,  and,  of  course,  binding,  and  what  is  sanitary.  The 
pork  of  Palestine  was  diseased  and  unwholesome.  It 
was  not  fit  to  be  eaten,  and  therefore  was  prohibited. 
But  Moses  never  tasted  a  slice  of  Cincinnati  ham. 
Had  he  done  so,  he  would  have  commanded  it  to  be 
eaten.  The  oysters  of  Palestine  were  coppery  and 
poisonous.  Had  the  great  lawgiver  enjoyed  a  fry  or 
stew  of  Saddlerocks  or  Chesapeake  Bay  oysters,  he 
would  have  made  an  exception  in  their  favor.  We 
keep  the  spirit  of  the  law,  and  not  the  letter." 

The  new  synagogue  in .  upper  New  York,  on  Fifth 
Avenue,  called  Beth-Emanuel  (or  the  Temple  of  God, 
in  English),  is  to  be  the  most  costly  and  elegant  reli- 
gious edifice  in  all  New  York.  It  is  in  the  quaint 
Moorish  or  Saracenic  style,  and  in  finish,  gorgeous- 
ness,  and  richness,  will  be  unequalled.  It  will  be 
adorned  with  minarets,  pinnacles,  and  Oriental  turrets 
of  great  height.  The  sides  are.  to  be  ornamented  with 
columns  of  Moorish  pattern  and  painting.  The  main 
entrance  is  to  restore  the  pattern  of  Solomon's  Temple, 
with  its  brazen  gates  and  gorgeousness  of  exterior. 
No  Christian  temples,  in  expense  or  in  elegance  equal 
the  synagogues  of  the  Jews. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  457 


THE    FEAST    OF    THE    PASSOVER. 

This  festival  is  held  in  all  reverence  by  the  Jews. 
It  begins  on  Friday  at  six  o'clock.  No  pleasant  bread 
is  eaten,  and  no  pleasant  drink  taken  during  its  con- 
tinuance. The  synagogues  are  crowded.  The  so- 
lemnities of  Zion  are  kept  as  they  were  three  centuries 
ago  in  Jerusalem,  — 

"When 

The  timbrel  rang  along  their  halls, 
And  God  communed  with  men." 

The  Passover  bread  is  of  the  first  quality.  The 
flour  is  selected  by  the  priests,  and  must  be  made  of 
the  finest  wrheat.  It  takes  eighteen  hundred  barrels 
to  supply  the  Passover  bread  for  New  York.  It  is 
mixed  in  sacred  vessels,  which  are  kept  by  the  Rabbis. 
Holy  men  keep  watch  over  the  flour  from  the  time  it 
leaves  the  barrel  until  it  is  put  into  the  oven.  Holy 
men  receive  it  as  it  comes  from  the  oven,  and  guard 
the  sacred  food  until  it  is  distributed  to  the  faithful. 
Everything  is  done  that  vigilance  can  suggest  to  guard 
the  bread  from  the  touch  of  the  Gentiles,  and  from 
everything  that  the  law  pronounces  unclean. 

JEWISH    SUNDAY    SCHOOLS. 

Not  alone  in  food  and  in  the  order  of  worship  are  the 
children  of  Israel  subject  to  innovation,  but  their  re- 
ligion is  assailed  from  quarters  that  admit  of  no  defence. 
The  Sunday  schools  of  New  York  are  very  numerous. 
In  spite  of  themselves  the  Jewish  children  have  to 
mingle  with  the  children  of  the  Gentiles.  The  Sunday 
schools  are  very  attractive ;  the  music,  the  cheerful 


458  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

songs,  the  interesting  books  and  papers,  the  flowers, 
and  the  exhilaration  of  the  gatherings,  are  irresistible. 
Large  numbers  of  Jewish  children  attend  the  Sunday 
schools.  They  hear  of  the  Savior ;  they  learn  to  sing 
his  praise  ;  they  go  home  and  fill  the  house  with  song 
about  the  Babe  in  Bethlehem,  and  the  Holy  One  who 
took  little  children  in  his  arms.  To  preserve  their 
children  from  such  influences  as  grow  out  of  a  Sunday 
school,  the  Jews  have  been  compelled  to  mark  the  day 
on  which  the  Savior  arose  from  the  dead  by  opening  a 
school  of  their  own.  These  schools  are  conducted  by 
the  Rabbi,  who  does  not  allow  any  one  but  himself  to 
impress  religious  truth  on  the  minds  of  children.  The 
exercises  consist  of  lessons  in  the  Hebrew  tongue  from 
the  Law,  the  Prophet,  and  the  Psalms.  The  Jewish 
catechism  is  taught,  and  the  singing  consists  of  chant- 
ing the  Psalms  of  David.  This  peculiar  people,  who 
have  rejected  the  Messiah  for  so  many  years,  bear  in 
their  persons,  as  a  nation  and  a  race,  proof  that  He  who 
spoke  of  them  was  the  Lord  from  heaven. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  459 


LVL 

JACOB     LITTLE,    THE     GREAT    BEAR    OF 
WALL     STREET. 

JACOB  LITTLE  originated  the  daring,  dashing  style  of 
business  in  stocks,  by  which  fortunes  are  made  and  lost 
in  a  day.  He  was  born  in  Newburyport,  Mass.,  and 
early  exhibited  great  tact  and  aptitude  for  business. 
In  1817  he  came  to  New  York,  and  entered  the  store 
of  Jacob  Barker,  who  was  at  that  time  the  most  shrewd 
and  talented  merchant  in  the  city.  He  remained  with 
his  master  five  years,  and  completed  his  financial  edu- 
cation. In  1822  he  opened  an  office  in  a  small  base- 
ment in  Wall  Street.  Caution,  self-reliance,  integrity, 
and  a  far-sightedness  beyond  his  years,  marked  his 
early  career.  For  twelve  years  he  worked  in  his  little 
den  as  few  men  work.  His  ambition  was  to  hold  the 
foremost  place  in  Wall  Street.  Eighteen  hours  a  day 
he  devoted  to  business  —  twelve  hours  to  his  office. 
His  evenings  he  spent  in  visiting  retail  houses  to  pur- 
chase uncurrent  money.  He  was  prompt,  energetic, 
reliable.  He  executed  all  orders  committed  to  him 
with  fidelity.  He  opened  a  correspondence  with  lead- 
ing bankers  in  all  the  principal  cities  from  New  York 
to  New  Orleans. 


460  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Twelve  years  of  industry,  integrity,  and  energetic 
devotion  to  business  placed  Mr.  Little  at  the  head  of 
financial  operations  in  Wall  Street.  He  identified  him- 
self with  the  style  of  business  known  as  "  Bearing 
Stocks."  He  was  called  the  Great  Bear  on  'change. 
His  mode  of  business  enabled  him  to  roll  up  an  almost 
untold  fortune.  He  held  on  to  his  system  till  it  hurled 
him  down  and  beat  him  to  pieces,  as  it  had  done  many 
a  strong  man  ^before.  For  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
century  Mr.  Little's  office  in  the  old  Exchange  building 
was  the  centre  of  daring,  gigantic  speculations.  On 
'change  his  tread  was  that  of  a  king.  He  could  sway 
and  disturb  the  street  when  he  pleased.  He  was 
rapid  and  prompt  in  his  dealings,  and  his  purchases 
were  usually  made  with  great  judgment.  He  had 
unusual  foresight,  which  at  times  seemed  to  amount  to 
prescience.  He  controlled  so  large  an  amount  of  stock 
that  he  was  called  the  Napoleon  of  the  Board.  When 
capitalists  regarded  railroads  with  distrust,  he  put  him- 
self at  the  head  of  the  railroad  movement.  He  com- 
prehended the  profit  to  be  derived  from  their  construc- 
tion. In  this  way  he  rolled  up  an  immense  fortune, 
and  was  known  everywhere  as  the  Railway  King. 

He  was  the  first  to  discover  when  the  business  was 
overdone,  and  immediately  changed  his  course.  At 
this  time  the  Erie  was  a  favorite  stock,  and  was  selling 
at  par.  Mr.  Little  threw  himself  against  the  street 
He  contracted  to  sell  a,  large  amount  of  this  stock,  to 
be  delivered  at  a  future  day.  His  rivals  in  Wall  Street, 
anxious  to  floor  him,  formed  a  combination.  They 
took  all  the  contracts  he  offered,  bought  up  all  the  new 
stock,  and  placed  everything  out  of  Mr.  Little's  reach, 


IN  NEW   YORK.  461 

making  it,  as  they  thought,  impossible  for  him  to  carry 
out  his  contracts.  His  ruin  seemed  inevitable,  as  his 
rivals  had  both  his  contract  and  the  stock.  If  Mr. 
Little  saw  the  way  out  of  his  trouble,  he  kept  his 
own  secrets ;  he  asked  no  advice,  solicited  no  accommo- 
dation. The  morning  dawned  when  the  stock  must  be 
delivered,  or  the  Great  Bear  of  Wall  Street  break. 
He  came  down  to  his  office  that  morning  self-reliant 
and  calm  as  usual.  He  said  nothing  about  his  business 
or  his  prospect.  At  one  o'clock  he  entered  the  office 
of  the  Erie  company.  He  presented  certain  certificates 
of  indebtedness  which  had  been  issued  by  the  corpora- 
tion. By  those  certificates  the  company  had  covenanted 
to  issue  stock  in  exchange.  That  stock  Mr.  Little 
demanded.  Nothing  could  be  done  but  to  comply. 
With  that  stock  he  met  his  contract,  floored  the  con- 
spirators, and  triumphed. 

Reverses  so  common  to  all  who  attempt  the  treach- 
erous sea  of  speculation  at  length  overtook  Mr.  Little. 
Walking  from  Wall  Street  with  a  friend  one  day  they 
passed  through  Union  Square,  then  the  abode  of  our 
wealthiest  people.  Looking  at  the  rows  of  elegant 
houses,  Mr.  Little  remarked,  "  I  have  lost  money  enough 
to-day  to  buy  this  whole  square.  Yes,"  he  added, 
"  and  half  the  people  in  it."  Three  times  he  became 
bankrupt,  and  what  was  then  regarded  as  a  colossal 
fortune  was  in  each  instance  swept  away.  In  each 
failure  he  recovered,  and  paid  his  contracts  in  full.  It 
was  a  common  remark  among  the  capitalists,  that 
"Jacob  Little's  suspended  papers  were  better  than  the 
checks  of  most  men." 

His  personal  appearance  was  commanding.     He  was 


462  SUNSHINE   AND  SHADOW 

tall  and  slim  ;  his  eye  expressive ;  his  face  indicated 
talent ;  the  whole  man  inspired  confidence.  He  was 
retiring  in  his  manner,  and  quite  diffident  except  in 
business.  He  was  generous  as  a  creditor.  If  a  man 
could  not  meet  his  contracts,  and  Mr.  Little  was  satis- 
fied that  he  was  honest,  he  never  pressed  him.  After 
his  first  suspension,  though  legally,  free,  he  paid  every 
creditor  in  full,  though  it  took  nearly  a  million  of  dol- 
lars. He  was  a  devout  member  of  the  Episcopal 
Church.  His  charities  were  large,  unostentatious,  and 
limited  to  no  sect.  The  Southern  Kebellion  swept 
away  his  remaining  fortune,  yet,  without  a  murmur, 
he  laid  the  loss  on  the  altar  of  his  country.  He  died 
in  the  bosom  of  his  family.  His  last  words  were,  "  I 
am  going  up.  Who  will  go  with  me  ?  " 


IN   NEW   YORK.  463 


LV1I. 

METHODISM    IN    NEW    YORK. 

ITS  ORIGIN.  —  HOUSE  AND  CART  LANE.  —  THE  LIBERALITY  OP  THE  EARLY 
CHRISTIANS  IN  NEW  YORK.  — THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  CHURCH.  — THE  DREW 
THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY. 

ITS     ORIGIN. 

A  BAND  of  Irish  emigrants  brought  Methodism  to  this 
city.  They  were  converted  in  England  by  the  preach- 
ing of  John  Wesley.  Under  the  preaching  of  the  father 
of  Methodism,  just  eight  years  before  he  reached  New 
York,  Philip  Embury  was  converted.  He  was  a  local 
preacher,  a  carpenter  by  trade,  and  earned  his  bread 
by  the  sweat  of  his  brow.  The  Methodists  were  few 
in  number.  They  had  no  pastor,  no  altar,  no  class- 
meetings,  no  love-feasts.  A  few  separated  themselves 
from  the  sinful  amusements  of  the  day.  But  these 
buried  their  talents,  and  took  no  active  part  in  religion. 
Philip  Embury  is  called  the  Father  of  the  Methodist 
Church  in  America.  But  it  is  very  clear  that  the 
Mother  of  the  Church  was  Barbara  Hicks.  In  a  small 
house  occupied  by  Methodists  a  company  was  gath- 
ered one  night,  playing  cards.  Among  the  company 
was  Philip  Embury ;  but  whether  he  was  playing  cards 
or  not  seems  to  be  as  unsettled  a  question  in  history  as 
whether  John  Rogers,  who  was  burned  at  the  stake,  had 


464  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

nine  children  or  ten.  While  the  revellers  were  in  the 
midst  of  their  pleasure,  the  door  opened,  and  Barbara 
Hicks  walked  into  the  room.  She  seized  the  cards  and 
threw  them  into  the  fire,  burning  the  idols,  as  she  called 
them.  Like  a  prophetess  of  old,  with  uplifted  hands 
and  earnest  tone  she  rebuked  the  Christians  in  Zion 
who  were  crucifying  Christ  afresh.  She  turned  to  Em- 
bury, and  said,  "  Brother  Embury,  you  must  preach  to 
us,  or  we  shall  all  go  to  hell,  and  God  will  require  our 
blood  at  your  hands."  Her  appearance  and  utterance 
spread  consternation  through  the  company.  Embury, 
alarmed,  felt  the  call  as  from  God.  His  house  was 
located  on  what  is  now  known  as  Park  Place,  near 
Broadway.  It  was  a  small  wooden  cottage,  one  story 
high,  with  one  window  and  a  door  in  front.  Without 
chapel  or  congregation,  Embury  began  to  preach  in  his 
own  house.  Here  he  laid  the  foundations  of  Method- 
ism, preached  the  first  sermon,  met  the  first  class,  and 
formed  the  first  Methodist  Society  in  New  York.  The 
room  was  small,  but  it  was  large  enough  for  the  con- 
gregation, which  was  composed  of  six  persons. 

HORSE   AND    CART   LANE. 

The  little  sect  soon  outgrew  its  narrow  limits.  A 
rigging  loft,  which  occupied  the  site  now  known  as 
120  William  Street,  was  hired  as  a  chapel.  It  was 
situated  on  what  was  then  known  as  Horse  and  Cart 
Lane.  A  tavern  sign  with  a  horse  and  cart  painted  on 
it  gave  the  name  to  the  narrow  street.  The  room  was 
rented  at  a  small  cost,  and  was  plain  and  comfortable. 
One  Sunday  the  little  band  in  the  rigging  loft  were 
greatly  alarmed  by  the  entrance  of  a  military  officer. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  465 

He  was  dressed  in  full  uniform,  scarlet  coat  and  gold 
trimmings,  and  his  sword  was  by  his  side.  He  was  tall 
and  commanding  in  appearance,  and  had  one  eye 
covered  with  a  green  silk  shade.  He  was  an  officer  of 
the  British  army.  He  lost  his  right  eye  in  the  memo- 
rable battle  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  He  was  con- 
verted- under  the  preaching  of  Wesley,  and  identified 
himself  with  the  Methodists.  He  was  barrack-master 
at  Albany,  but  he  preached  Christ  to  his  fellow-men  as 
often  as  opportunity  offered.  It  was  his  custom  to 
preach  in  full  uniform.  His  sword  he  laid  upon  the 
Bible.  He  had  heard  of  the  meeting  in  the  rigging- 
loft,  and  had  come  from  Albany  to  worship  with  the 
little  band.  The  company  extended  a  warm  welcome 
to  Thomas  Wells,  and  he  preached  to  them  with  great 
acceptance. 

THE   LIBERALITY    OF   THE,  EARLY    CHRISTIANS    IN   NEW    YORK. 

Nothing  is  more  marked  than  the  freedom  from  big- 
otry and  persecution  which  distinguished  the  conduct  of 
the  early  Christians  of  New  Amsterdam.  The  Dutch  were 
owners  of  the  soil,  which  they  bought  from  the  savages. 
They  had  a  law,  by  which  no  other  sect  except  the 
Episcopal  could  build  churches  within  the  limits  of  the 
city.  But  so  long  as  they  were  left  in  the  undisturbed 
possession  of  their  customs  they  cared  not  who  came 
or  who  preached.  They  rescued  the  first  Catholic 
missionary  who  came  to  New  York,  and  refused  to  give 
him  up,  though  the  savages  threatened  to  attack  the 
white  settlements ;  paid  the  ransom  demanded  for  him, 
paid  his  expenses  to  France,  and  gave  him  a  letter  of 
protection  till  he  should  reach  his  home.  The  Dutch 
30 


466  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

welcomed  the  Episcopalians,  and  gave  them  the  use  of 
their  house  of  worship  a  part  of  the  day  on  the  Sabbath, 
till  their  own  house  should  be  built.  When  the  Dutch 
built  a  new  church,  the  Episcopalians  presented  them 
with  an  organ  as  a  testimonial  of  their  good  will. 

The  same  catholic  spirit  greeted  the  founding  of  the 
Methodist  Church.  Mary  Barkley,  the  widow  of  the 
second  rector  of  Trinity  Church,  owned  a  piece  of  land 
called  the  Shoemaker's  Ground.  In  1768,  Mrs.  Barkley: 
leased  that  lot  of  land  to  the  Methodists.  It  was  on 
John  Street,  and  on  it  they  placed  a  chapel  for  worship. 
The  deed  of  purchase  is  dated  1770.  On  it  was  erected 
the  first-  Methodist  Church  in  America.  The  present 
John  Street  Church  stands  on  the  same  site.  The  first 
Methodist  Church  was  erected  by  the  assistance  of 
Christians  of  all  denominations.  Among  the  donors 
were  Robert  Livingston,  the  signer  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independence,  Duane,  the  first  mayor  of  the  city, 
Delancy,  the  recorder,  Lieutenant-Governor  of  the 
state,  officers  of  Trinity  Church,  and  distinguished 
citizens  generally.  They  gave  their  money,  so  the 
paper  ran,  "to  build  a  house  for  the  service  of  Al- 
mighty God,  after  the  manner  of  the  people  called 
Methodists."  The  chapel,  named  after  Wesley,  was  of 
stone,  and  stood  some  distance'  from  the  street.  It  was 
occupied  for  many  years  in  an  unfinished  state.  The 
galleries  were  mere  lofts,  without  breastwork  or  stairs. 
The  hearers  ascended  by  means  of  a  ladder.  While 
the  chapel  was  being  built,  the  preacher  worked  as  a 
carpenter  on  the  edifice.  He  afterwards  preached  the 
dedication  sermon.  The  house  was  lighted  at  night  by 
each  hearer  carrying  his  own  candle.  It  was  contrary 


IN  NEW  YORK.  467 

to  law  for  Dissenters  to  build  a  church  or  chapel  in  the 
city.  Anxious  to  have  a  house  of  worship  of  their  own, 
the  conscientious  Methodists  sought  the  Dutch  author- 
ities to  know  how  the  law  might  be  kept,  and  they 
have  a  house  of  worship.  "  Put  a  fireplace  and  chimney 
in  your  building,"  said  the  liberal  guardians  of  the  law, 
"  and  it  will  be  a  dwelling  and  not  a  church."  This 
was  done.  On  the  erection  of  the  chapel,  the  preacher's 
house,  as  it  was  called,  was  built  in  the  yard  in  front  of 
the  place  of  worship.  It  was  a  wooden  building,  small, 
and  rough.  It  was  gloomy  within,  for  windows  were 
few.  Those  who  lived  in  it  said  it  was  cold  as  a  barn. 
It  was  furnished  by  the  congregation,  but  in  the  plain- 
est style.  Stairs  connected  it  with  the  chapel.  Its 
roof  sheltered  some  of  the  noblest  men  of  the  land. 

THE  GROWTH  OF  THE  CHURCH. 

The  little  sect,  which  in  1760  numbered  but  six  per- 
sons in  the  congregation,  and  gathered  those  in  a  small 
private  room,  now  numbers  its  church  members  by  mil- 
lions, and  has  over  twelve  thousand  churches  and  twelve 
thousand  preachers.  Its  places  of  worship  are  among 
the  most  costly  and  elegant  in  the  land.  Among  the 
white  marble  and  brown-stone  churches  in  this  city, 
with  the  elegant  adornments  of  painting  and  sculpture, 
with  all  modern  appliances,  with  organs  and  choirs, 
none  exceed  the  Methodists'.  Their  friends  rank 
among  the  foremost  merchants,  bankers,  and  million- 
naires.  They  are  found  among  the  leaders  in  all  the  pro- 
fessions. The  denomination  move  with  the  order,  com- 
pactness, and  efficiency  of  an  army.  The  Book  Con- 
cern,  founded  by  the  foresight  of  a  few  wise  men,  with 


468  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

a  very  small  capital,  and  that  borrowed,  is  the  great 
power  of  the  church.  From  its  funds  the  bishops  are 
supported,  and  the  great  denominational  interests 
sustained.  Its  Sunday  school  literature  is  unequalled. 
It  commands  the  best  talent  in  the  land.  Its  authors 
need  not  be  Methodists.  If  a  book  is  good  it  is 
liberally  paid  for.  Leading  denominations  purchase 
their  Sunday  school  literature  from  the  Book  Con- 
cern, and  have  their  imprint  placed  upon  the  edition 
they  buy. 

THE    DREW    THEOLOGICAL    SEMINARY. 

Among  the  early  friends  of  the  Methodist  Church  is 
the  well-known  millionnaire,  Daniel  Drew.  He  has 
always  been  a  liberal  supporter  of  Methodism.  The 
centenary  year  of  the  church  occurring  in  1866,  two  gen- 
tlemen called  on  Mr.  Drew  and  requested  him  to  make 
a  donation  as  a  centenary  gift.  Without  a  moment's 
hesitation,  he  replied,  "I  will  give  you  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars  to  found  a  Theological  Sem- 
inary." That  seminary  has  been  opened  at  Madison, 
N.  J.  Mr.  Drew  has  already  spent  over  half  a  million, 
and  his  plans  for  buildings,  library,  etc.,  will  come  up  to 
the  full  sum  of  one  million  of  dollars,  all  of  which  is  a 
free  gift  to  the  church  of  his  youth.  This  great  dona- 
tion is  deeded  to  the  Conference  of  the  Methodist 
Church.  It  has  helped  to  swell  the  seven  millions 
contributed  in  one  year  as  a  centenary  offering.  Be- 
sides this,  the  Conference  owns  in  real  estate  the 
additional  sum  of  seven  millions  of  dollars.  The  church 
enters  on  a  new  era  full  of  promise  and  full  of  strength. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  469 


LVIII. 

MADAME     DEMOREST, 

THIS  lady  is  one  of  the  representative  women  of  the 
age.  She  is  a  good  specimen  of  an  earnest,  resolute 
woman,  with  intelligence,  tact,  and  brain,  starting  out 
in  life  with  an  aim,  and  following  it  persistently  until 
it  is  secured.  She  was  born  in  Saratoga,  where  she 
grew  to  womanhood  beneath  her  mother's  roof.  She 
felt  the  stirrings  of  genius,  and  formed  the  resolution 
early  to  make  her  own  mark  in  the  world.  She  ap- 
prenticed herself  to  the  trade  of  dress-making,  and 
mastered  it.  She  then  learned  the  millinery  business 
in  all  its  departments.  She  need  not  have  done  this; 
but  as  she  intended  to  have  an  establishment  of  her 
own,  she  knew  how  valuable  to  her  would  be  a  practi- 
cal knowledge  of  all  the  branches  of  the  business  into 
which  she  proposed  to  enter. 

She  opened  her  New  York  establishment  in  a  small 
way.  She  imported  fashions,  and  adapted  them  herself 
to  the  taste  of  our  people,  giving  the  benefit  of  her 
skill  and  establishment,  not  only  to  the  wealthy  and 
fashionable,  but  to  persons  in  middle  life  and  to  the 
lowly.  She  banished  the  old,  tedious,  painful  method 
of  fitting  dresses,  and  introduced  a  system  that  has 
been  taught  to  more  than  ten  thousand  persons,  carry- 


470  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

ing  comfort  to  thousands  of  homes,  and  teaching  wo- 
men an  art  by  which  they  can  gain  a  comfortable 
livelihood. 

Her  two  great  establishments  in  New  York  have 
become  the  headquarters  of  fashion.  They  are  crowded 
daily.  By  a  system  peculiarly  her  own,  Madame  De- 
morest  can  send  to  any  portion  of  our  land  the  latest 
fashions  in.  an  envelope,  so  that  among  the  mines  of 
Colorado,  on  the  Pacific  coast,  in  the  dense  forests,  or 
in  the  interior  of  the  continent,  the  ladies  can  make 
their  own  dresses  in  the  latest  style.  This  lady  has 
over  three  hundred  branches  in  the  leading  cities  and 
towns  of  the  United  States,  all  of  which  are  supplied 
from  the  headquarters  in  New  York.  Over  two  hun- 
dred girls  are  employed  in  the  central  establishment 
on  Broadway.  She  superintends  her  establishment  in 
person.  She  is  independent  in  her  opinions  and  views, 
is  an  earnest  Christian  and  reformer.  She  has  received 
several  patents  from  the  government  for  articles  of 
dress,  uniting  utility,  elegance,  and  health. 

When  philanthropy  was  not  as  popular  as  now,  and 
when  respectable  and  intelligent  colored  girls  could  not 
find  employment  in  establishments  called  fashionable, 
Madame  Demorest  welcomed  them  to  her  Broadway 
rooms,  gave  them  the  same  wages,  and  a  seat  in  the 
same  work-room  that  was  assigned  to  others.  At  first, 
fashionable  ladies  flaunted  out  of  the  rooms,  and  an- 
nounced that  they  would  not  patronize  an  establish- 
ment that  employed  negro  girls.  But  they  were  glad 
to  come  back,  as  they  could  not  get  their  wsrk  done 
elsewhere.  Madame  Demorest  early  bound  herself  up 
with  the  charities  and  humanities  of  the  age.  When  it 


IN   NEW   YORK.  471 

was  very  fashionable  to  crowd  the  sideboards  with  liquor 
on  New  Year's,  she  banished  from  her  table  every  kind 
of  intoxicating  drink.  The  young  women  who  are 
with  her  find  her  a  steadfast  friend,  and  seldom  leave 
her  establishment  except  to  get  married,  or  to  set  up 
in  business  for  themselves.  She  is  liberal  to  the  lowly 
and  the  poor,  and  no  child  of  want  or  sorrow  appeals  to 
her.  in  vain. 

The  Demorest  Monthly  Magazine,  now  conducted  by 
,  W.  Jennings  Demorest,  one  of  the  most  successful  and 
.  enterprising  magazines  in  the  land,  originated  in  the 
humblest  way,  without  a  thought  that  it  would  reach 
its  present  dimensions.     Presenting  a  few  patterns,  and 
combining  literature  with  fashion,  it  was  sent  forth  to 
acquaint  the  community  with  the  new  mode  of  supply- 
ing their  wants.     It  met  the  necessities  of  the  home, 
and  was  greedily  purchased  on  all  hands.     It  took  its 
positioji  with  a  bound  among  the  foremost  monthlies 
•  of  the  age.     Among  the  contributors  to  its  columns  are 
many  of  the  first  writers  of  the  land  —  novelists,  poets, 
historians,  and  lady  writers  of  celebrity. 


472        SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


LIX. 

GENERAL  GRANT  IN  NEW  YORK 


HIS  ARRIVAL.  —  HOW    THE    GENERAL    GOT    INTO    THE    ARMY.  GENERAL  SCOTT 

ON  GENERAL  GRANT.  —  MR.  LINCOLN  RECALLS  HIM.  —  A  FATHER'S  OPIN- 
ION OF  HIS  SON.  —  THE  ORATION.  —  MRS.  GRANT.  —  GENERAL  GRANT  IN 
PRIVATE  LIFE. 

SOON  after  his  appointment  as  Lieutenant  General  in 
the  army,  General  Grant  visited  New  York.  It  was 
said  he  could  not  hold  communication  with  the  army 
without  interruption  at  Washington,  as  his  telegrams 
were  tampered  with.  He  came  unattended  and  un- 
heralded. He  was  some  days  in  New  York  before  the 
people  knew  of  his  arrival.  It  was  by  his  order  that 
the  telegraph  and  press  were  silent.  He  passed  most 
of  his  time  in  the  private  apartments  of  Mr.  Stetson. 
In  his  social  habits  he  has  the  simplicity  of  a  child,  is 
unostentatious,  and  makes  friends  everywhere. 

HIS    ARRIVAL. 

He  reached  the  Astor  House  at  midnight.  A  party 
of  gentlemen  had  secured  a  private  parlor,  and  ordered 
a  dinner  without  regard  to  cost.  It  was  spread  in  the 
most  elegant  style  of  the  Astor.  The  party  were 
impatiently  waiting  for  the  call  to  dinner. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  473 

Charles  Stetson  entered  the  room,  and  said,  «  Gentle- 
men, I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you,  but  I  must  have  this 
room,  and  the  dinner  as  it  stands.  I  can  make  no  ex- 
planations now.  I  will  make  it  all  right  with  you  to- 
morrow." Stunned  and  disappointed,  the  party  sepa- 
rated, and  General  Grant  and  his  friends  sat  down  to 
the  magnificent  dinner. 

AN    ADJUTANT    GENERAI/S    STORY. 

While  the  general  was  at  the  Astor,  the  adjutant 
general  under  Governor  Yates  was  in  the  rotunda.  As 
General  Grant  passed  him  to  go  to  dinner,  he  said  to 
some  friends,  "  When  I  look  at  that  man  I  can  scarcely 
believe  my  senses.  Three  years  have  made  a  great 
change  in  his  position  and  prospects.  I  gave  him  the 
first  appointment  that  he  had  during  the  war.  His 
antecedents  were  not  such  as  to  hope  a  great  deal  from 
him.  He  obtained  no  employment  for  a  long  while. 
At  the  earnest  solicitation  of  his  friends,  and  by  Gov- 
ernor Yates's  command,  I  appointed  him  to  a  clerkship 
in  my  office.  He  made  a  very  poor  clerk.  We  should 
not  have  kept  him  but  for  the  outside  pressure.  He 
seldom  said  anything,  engaged  in  conversation  with 
but  few  persons,  and  seemed  rather  stupid  than  other- 
wise. Governor  Yates  had  raised  a  regiment,  which 
was  a  sort  of  pet  with  him.  It  was  very  mutinous, 
and  no  man  could  control  it.  One  day  Captain  Grant 
came  up  to  me,  and  in  a  quiet  way  said,  *  I  wish  you 
would  give  me  the  command  of  that  regiment.  I 
think  I  can  manage  it.'  After  much  persuasion  Gov- 
ernor Yates  consented.  Grant  put  the  regiment  im- 
mediately on  a  march.  On  halting,  the  chief  mutinous 


474  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

spirit  walked  deliberately  out  of  the  ranks.  Grant  had 
him  immediately  seized,  pinioned,  and  sent  to  the  rear 
•under  guard.  Several  symptoms  of  insubordination 
were  developed  on  the  march.  They  were  met  at  once 
and  severely  punished.  The  tramp  the  regiment  took 
'was  fifty  miles.  The  column  was  then  turned,  and 
marched  back.  The  colonel  then  addressed  the  boys, 
telling  them  what  they  could  depend  upon  while  he 
held  command.  He  knew  how  to  treat  good  soldiers 
and  reduce  refractory  ones.  Those  who  had  behaved 
themselves  he  gave  leave  of  absence  ;  those  who  be- 
•haved  ill  he  put  to  unpleasant  police  duty  and  on 
guard.  He  told  the  regiment  that  he  should  deal 
kindly  with  all  who  did  their  duty  ;  '  but/  said  he, '  if 
you  do  not  obey  orders,  I  will  march  you  one  hundred 
miles  on  the  next  trip,  and  shoot  every  mutinous  man 
found  in  the  ranks/  " 

HOW    THE    GENERAL    GOT    INTO    THE   ARMY. 

In  the  incident  just  detailed  we  see  the  first  step  in 
General  Grant's  military  career.  At  the  opening  of 
the  rebellion,  "Mr.  Grant,"  as  he  was  then  called, 
Resided  at  Galena,  He  had  been  educated  at  West 
-Point  at  the  public  expense.  He  was  with  General 
Scott  in  Mexico  as  lieutenant,  but  all  unknown  to  the 
.commanding  general.  In  Galena  he  was  connected 
with  his  father's  tan-yard.  He  was  a  plain,  matter-of- 
fact  sort  of  man,  with  little  force,  as  it  was  supposed, 
attracting  no  particular  attention  any  way.  The  flag 
had  been  shot  away  from  Sumter.  It  had  been  blown 
out  of  the  rebel  cannon  at  Memphis.  Our  armies  had 
done  but  little,  and  the  prospect  for  the  future  was  not 


vv;  ^       IN  NEW  YORK.  475 

brilliant.  One  morning  Mr.  Grant  called  on  Mr.  Wash- 
burne, a  member  of  Congress  who  resides  at  Galena, 
and  said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Washburne,  I  do  not  feel  right 
in  regard  to  my  position  while  the  war  is  going  on  in 
defence  of  the  Union.  I  am  not  doing  my  duty,  and  I 
cannot  sleep  nights.  I  am  doing  nothing.  I  have 
been  educated  at  the  nation's  expense.  I  am  not  lift- 
ing a  finger  to  aid  her  in  this  dark  hour.  I  am  no 
"politician.  I  don't  know  what  I  can  do.  I  feel  as  if  I 
was  fit  for  something,  if  I  can  only  find  my  place." 
Mr.  Washburne  was  about  visiting  Springfield  to  hold 
an  important  consultation  with  Governor  Yates,  and  he 
invited  his  neighbor  to  accompany  him.  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  fourth  day  after  their  arrival,  Mr.  Grant 
called  at  the  rooms  of  Mr.  Washburne.  Mr.  Grant 
said,  "  Mr.  Washburne,  I  don't  seem  to  be  wanted  here. 
Nobody  knows  me.  There  is  nothing  for  me  to  do, 
and  I  am  going  home."  "Hold  on  a  day  longer,"  said 
Mr.  Washburne.  An  important  consultation  was  held 
in  the  chamber  next  morning.  At  Mr.  Washburne's 
request  Mr.  Grant  was  called  in.  He  held  an  interview 
with  the  state  authorities  for  about  thirty  minutes.  He 
made  a  plain,  common-sense,  soldierly  statement.  With 
the  word,  as  with  the  sword,  he  cut  the  Gordian  knot 
of  their  difficulties.  He  pointed  out  the  straight  path 
in  which  they  could  walk  without  trouble.  He  then 
left  the  room.  Governor  Yates  exclaimed, "  Good  God, 
Washburne,  who  is  this  man  ?  I  have  learned  more 
about  troops  in  thirty  minutes  than  I  knew  before  in 
all  my  life.  All  I  can  do  for  him  now  is  to  put  him 
on  my  staff.  He  must  not  be  lost  to  the  national 


476  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

His  first  business  was  at  the  state  barrack,  where  he 
was  to  prepare  troops  for  march  when  the  governor 
should  call  for  them.  Things  had  been  loosely  done 
at  the  state  rendezvous,  and  seldom  were  men  ready 
when  called  for.  The  governor  used  to  send  his  order 
for  men  a  week  or  two  in  advance.  His  first  requisi^ 
tion  was  for  a  thousand  men,  fully  equipped,  to  be  at 
the  state  capital  on  a  given  day  at  the  hour  of  noon. 
Promptly  on  the  hour  a  colonel  reported  to  the  adju- 
tant general,  and  much  to  his  astonishment,  as  the  men 
were  not  wanted  for  several  days.  They  found  that 
Grant  obeyed  orders.  He  was  ready  at  any  hour  for 
any  emergency.  The  state  barrack  became  a  model 
for  the  army.  Letters  from  the  War  Department, 
commendatory  of  the  troops,  praising  their  discipline 
and  their  fine  equipment,  reached  Governor  Yates. 
Such  a  man  as  Grant  could  not  long  remain  in  a  sub- 
ordinate position.  He  was  commissioned  as  colonel  of 
one  of  the  finest  regiments  that  left  Illinois. 

GENERAL    SCOTT    ON    GENERAL    GRANT. 

"When  General  Grant  first  began  to  loom  up  as  a 
military  man,  when  he  was  gaining  his  first  victories, 
—  not  only  fighting  battles,  but  spoiling  the  enemy,  — 
he  attracted  general  attention.  It  was  the  time  when 
Mr.  Lincoln  referred  to  him  as  one  of  the  most  promis- 
ing officers  in  the  army,  some  one  said,  "Mr.  President, 
Grant  drinks."  "  Does  he?"  said  Mr.  Lincoln.  "I  wish 
I  knew  what  whiskey  he  drinks.  I  would  have  some 
ordered  for  the  other  generals  in  the  arnry."  About 
:this  time  I  called  on  General  Scott,  who  was  then 
residing  at  Delmonico's.  In  referring  to  the  war, 


IN  NEW  YORK.  477 

General  Scott  said,  "  I  never  knew  a  war  of  this  magni- 
tude that  did  not  throw  to  the  surface  some  eminent 
military  character.  Our  war  so  far  has  produced  no 
such  person.  We  have  had  splendid  fighting  and 
brilliant  engagements,  but  we  have  not  crippled  the 
enemy,  and  have  carried  away  no  success.  Both  armies 
have  retired  in  good  condition,  ready  to  renew  the 
conflict  next  day.  A  war  would  be  perpetual  in  which 
the  enemy  was  not  worsted,  crippled,  and  his  means 
of  renewing  the  conflict  destroyed.  I  don't  know,"  he 
said,  "  but  what  I  ought  to  make  an  exception  in  favor 
of  that  young  man  who  is  out  on  the  Mississippi.  He 
seems  to  know  how  to  fight.  He  not  only  gains 
victories,  but  cripples  the  enemy.  So  far,  certainly,  he 
is  the  hero  of  the  war." 

MR.   LINCOLN   RECALLS   HIM. 

To  suit  the  soldiers  who  compose  the  home  guard, 
who  took  care  of  the  "spoils,"  filled  the  civil  offices, 
and  gave  Mr.  Lincoln  daily  instructions  about  running 
the  government,  General  Grant's  movements  before 
Vicksburg  were  too  slow.  A  strong  pressure  was 
brought  to  bear  on  Mr.  Lincoln  to  remove  him.  All 
sorts  of  stories  were  told  about  his  habits,  his  military 
incapacity,  and  his  life  as  a  soldier.  Mr.  Lincoln 
yielded,  and  an  order  for  the  removal  of  General  Grant 
from  the  command  of  Vicksburg  was  made  out  at  the 
War  Department,  and  countersigned  by  the  President. 
The  adjutant  general  was  sent  on  to  relieve  General 
Grant.  He  reached  the  headquarters  about  noon. 
The  commanding  general  was  from  his  post.  The 
adjutant  general  took  the  opportunity  to  make  himself 


478  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

acquainted  with  the  situation.  He  had  a  soldier's  eye, 
and  a  spirit  free  from  jealousy.  He  saw  at  a  glance 
how  matters  stood.  General  Grant  had  been  tele- 
graphed to,  and  he  knew  what  had  been  done,  and  for 
what  purpose  the  adjutant  general  was  at  his  post. 
On  his  return,  the  commanding  general  frankly  said  to 
the  adjutant  general,  "  I  know  what  you  are  here  for. 
I  don't  want  to  see  your  orders  till  to-morrow.  Give 
me  twenty-four  hours,  and  I  will  give  you  Vicksburg." 
Said  the  adjutant  general,  "You  are  entitled  to  it.  I 
see  the  difficulties  you  have  had  to  contend  with.  You 
are  on  the  eve  of  triumph.  To  carry  out  my  orders  will 
be  to  throw  the  cause  back  six  months.  I  will  leave 
you  for  twenty-four  hours.  If  I  am  cashiered  for  diso- 
bedience to  orders,  I  will  accept  it  for  the  good  of  the 
country."  At  noon  the  next  day  the  wires  quivered 
in  all  directions  with  the  thrilling  news  that  Vicksburg 
had  fallen.  The  adjutant  general  had  now  his  peace 
to  make  with  the  President.  He  had  disobeyed  his 
superiors.  His  orders  were  peremptory  and  impera- 
tive. He  was  to  remove  General  Grant,  and  do  it  at 
once.  But  he  had  not  only  not  removed  General 
Grant,  but  left  him  in  command.  The  order  for  his 
removal  was  reposing  quietly  in  his  pocket.  He  found 
Mr.  Lincoln  in  high  glee  over  the  brightening  prospects 
of  the  national  cause.  He  laughed  at  the  fears  of  the 
officer,  and  said  to  him,  "You  would  have  deserved  to 
be  shot  if  you  had  obeyed  your  orders." 


IN  NEW  YORK.  479 

A  FATHER'S  OPINION  OF  HIS  SON. 

In  company  with  General  Grant  at  the  Astor  House 
was  an  officer  of  the  army,  who  met  his  father  at  Cin- 
cinnati just  after  the  disasters  at  Shiloh,  which  seemed 
to  cloud  the  military  glory  of  the  rising  general.  The 
disappointment  was  universal;  it  was  feared  that  Grant's 
name  would  be  added  to  the  long  roll  of  generals  who 
had  failed.  A  large  company  was  present  when  the 
old  man  was  introduced.  He  was  quite  advanced,  and 
looked  like  a  plain  farmer;  quite  shrewd  he  was,  and 
he  had  unbounded  confidence  in  his  son.  After  some 
complimentary  things  had  been  said,  the  old  gentle- 
man spoke.  "Some  people  think  that  my  son  has  not 
done  very  well  at  Shiloh.  But  they  don't  know  Lysus. 
He  is  a  great  man,  and  the  people  will  find  him  out. 
He  will  come  out  right,  gentlemen.  I  know  him  better 
than  any  one. else.  I  should  not  be  at  all  surprised  if 
Lysus  should  yet  command  the  armies  of  the  United 
States." 

THE   OVATION. 

One  of  the  most  popular  ovations  ever  tendered  to  a 
man  was  given  to  General  Grant  in  this  city.  A  self- 
constituted  body,  known  afterwards  as  the  Sparrow- 
grass  Committee,  attempted  to  make  use  of  General 
Grant  for  political  purposes.  They  went  to  Washing- 
ton to  secure  the  attendance  of  the  general  at  the 
nice  little  private  parties  they  had  got  up,  by  which 
they  hoped  to  secure  the  guest  to  themselves.  But 
telegraph  can  travel  faster  than  steamer,  and  the  plans 
of  the  self-constituted  committee  were  defeated.  The 
general  came  at  the  early  hour  of  six  in  the  morning. 


480  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

He  got  out  of  the  rear  car,  outflanked  the  committee, 
took  a  private  carriage,  and  drove  to  the  Astor  House. 
The  levee  was  held  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning.  In 
a  plain  citizen's  dress,  with  an  iron-gray  frock  coat,  light 
vest  and  pants,  he  took  his  station  to  welcome  the  peo- 
ple. He  was  sunburnt,  and  bronzed  with  exposure  and 
toil.  The  rush  was  tremendous,  the  living  tide  filling 
all  the  stairs,  vestibules,  and  windows.  All  around  the 
Astor  House  was  a  surging  crowd,  and  to  gratify  them 
he  stepped  upon  the  portico,  while  cheer  upon  cheer  rent 
the  skies.  This  was  the  first  popular  ovation  that  the 
general  received.  The  people  placed  his  name  by  the 
side  of  Wellington,  Napoleon,  and  other  great  captains 
of  the  world.  In  appearance  he  was  not  prepossessing; 
his  face  was  unsympathizing,  his  eyes  contracted,  with 
a  sleepy  sort  of  look  about  them.  He  was  very  stocky, 
and  appeared  short,  though  he  was  taller  than  the 
average  of  the  crowd.  Throughout  the  whole  ovation 
he  was  unassuming  and  unaffected.  He  was  introduced 
to  thousands  at  Cooper  Institute.  He  bowed  his  ac- 
knowledgments. The  first  citizens  gave  him  an  elegant 
dinner.  In  answer  to  the  call  for  a  speech,  he  simply 
said,  "I  thank  you  for  your  kindness."  Through  all  the 
war  he  has  been  distinguished  for  his  affection  for  his 
soldiers.  After  his  long  reception  of  several  hours  he 
retired  to  his  couch  for  a  little  rest.  He  had  scarcely 
lain  down  before  he  was  told  that  a  Massachusetts  regi- 
ment, on  its  way  home  from  the  war,  was  in  front  of  the 
Astor,  waiting  to  pay  him  a  salute.  He  would  not 
have  left  his  couch  for  all  the  kings  of  Europe.  But  he 
instantly  rose,  and  went  to  the  balcony  of  the  hotel. 
There  he  saw  his  boys  who  had  been  with  him  on  the 


IN   NEW   YORK.  481 

Potomac,  drawn  up  in  line,  with  their  tattered  banners, 
immediately  in  front  of  the  main  entrance.  They  were 
surrounded  by  full  ten  thousand  people.  On  his  ap- 
pearance the  boys  were  nearly  frantic.  They  shouted, 
they  yelled,  threw  their  caps  up  in  the  air,  and  some 
of  them  attempted  to  get  at  him  by  climbing  up  the 
columns  of  the  Astor  House  porch.  The  sight  drew 
tears  to  the  general's  eyes  as  the  column  moved  on- 
ward nearer  home. 

MRS.    GRANT. 

This  lady  accompanied  the  general,  and  participated 
in  the  ovation.  She  won  all  hearts  by  her  modest 
deportment.  She  is  very  domestic  in  her  habits,  and 
finds  little  pleasure  in  being  gazed  at  by  the  crowd. 
She  held  a  levee  for  the  ladies  who  called  on  her. 
Some  one  asked  her  how  long  she  was  to  remain  in 
New  York.  She  said,  "  We  shall  leave  to-morrow  morn- 
ing for  Washington."  The  inquirer  suggested  that  per- 
haps they  would  be  induced  to  stay  another  day.  Mrs. 
Grant  replied,  "  No.  The  general  says  he  shall  leave 
to-morrow  morning ;  he  is  a  very  obstinate  man  \  you 
cannot  change  him."  She  spoke  with  the  utmost  sim- 
plicity of  the  change  in  her  social  position,  and  the 
new  life  to  which  she  was  called.  She  said  she  was  not 
such  a  wife  as  Mr.  Grant,  as  she  called  him,  ought  to 
have ;  "  had  he  only  married  my  sister,  she  would  have 
been  suited  to  our  new  position." 

GENERAL    GRANT    IN    PRIVATE   LIFE. 

Few  men  are  better  informed,  or  have  better  ability 
to  express  themselves,  than  General  Grant,  when  he 
chooses  so  to  do.     His  reticence  is  not  the  result  of 
31 


482  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

diffidence.  A  senator  called  -upon  him  not  long  since, 
in  Washington,,  and  before  he  had  a  chance  to  talk  on 
political  subjects  General  Grant  introduced  his  horses, 
and  consumed  the  whole  interview  in  talking  about 
them.  As  he  left  the  War  Department,  a  friend  met  the 
senator,  and  said  to  him,  ^  So  you  have  had  an  inter- 
view with  General  Grant.  What  do  you  think  of  him?" 
"He  don't  know  anything  but  horse,"  said  the  senator; 
"  he  talked  about  it  all  the  time."  I  was  in  the  depart- 
ment when  General  Grant  was  told  of  this.  He  said, 
"  Yes,  I  did  talk  horse  to  him  :  I  understand  horse,  and 
I  think  he  understands  the  subject  better  than  politics, 
so  I  talked  about  what  we  both  understood."  The 
chairman  of  one  of  the  most  important  committees  in 
the  Senate  told  me  that  he  was  riding  from  New  York 
to  Washington  in  the  cars  when  General  Grant  was  on 
the  train.  He  came  and  sat  down  beside  the  senator, 
opened  the  subject  of  the  national  finances,  urged 
retrenchment,  and  gave  his  views  on  the  subject  as  if 
finance  had  been  the  study  of  his  lifetime. 

He  is  very  decided  in  his  opinions,  and  resolute  when 
his  mind  is  made  up.  While  at  the  levee  he  wrote  his 
name  on  a  few  cards.  He  handed  his  pencil  to  a  friend, 
and  said,  "  I  will  write  no  more."  "Just  one  more  !  just 
one  more  ! "  was  cried  out  on  the  right  hand  and  the  left. 
At  Governor  Fenton's  levee,  General  Grant  attended 
as  a  guest.  The  people  shouted  "  A  speech  !  a  speech!" 
and  would  listen  to  no  one  else,  not  even  Governor 
Fenton.  The  governor  urged  the  general  to  say  a  few 
words,  as  the  easiest  way  to  satisfy  the  crowd.  "  There 
are  not  men  enough  in  New  York  to  make  me  speak 
to-night,"  was  the  response  at  the  splendid  dinner  given 


IN   NEW   YORK.  483 

him.  He  sat  in  the  centre  of  Congressmen  and  dis- 
tinguished persons.  He  spoke  but  one  word  during  the 
whole  dinner.  An  engineer  spoke  of  a  river  that  the 
army  crossed,  and  said  it  was  thirteen  feet  wide.  Gen- 
eral Grant  lifted  his  finger,  and  said  u  fourteen."  Some 
one  congratulated  him  on  his  relief,  from  the  responsi- 
bilities of  war.  The  general  said  he  would  rather 
be  with  his  army  than  at  a  public  dinner.  General 
Grant's  father  visited  him  at  Yicksburg  just  after  its 
surrender.  He  saw  the  carcasses  of  thousands  of  cattle 
and  horses  that  lay  dead  on  the  field.  As  a  manufac- 
turer of  leather,  he  thought  what  a  fine  speculation 
was  before  him !  He  went  to  his  son,  and  asked  for  an 
order  to  gather  the  skins.  To  a  friend  the  old  man 
said,  "And  what  do  you  think  Lysus  said?  Why,  he 
told  me  I  had  better  go  home  and  attend  to  my  own 
business,  and  not  be  speculating  on  the  battle-field, 
and  compromising  him  with  the  government."  His 
war  horse  was  a  small  black  palfrey,  to  which  he 
seemed  fondly  attached.  The  horse  seems  fit  only  for 
a  lady  to  ride.  He  was  agile,  slender-limbed,  and  suit- 
able only  for  a  toy  for  children.  "  That  horse,"  said  the 
general,  "  is  the  most  remarkable  horse  I  have  ever  seen. 
He  is  an  imported  blood  horse.  Jeff  Davis  brought 
him  over  from  Europe.  He  came  from  his  plantation. 
I  have  ridden  him  in  all  my  campaigns.  His  endurance 
is  amazing.  I  have  taken  him  out  at  daylight,  and 
ridden  him  till  evening,  and  found  him  as  fresh  as 
when  he  was  saddled.  His  intelligence  is  amazing ;  he 
knows  more  than  some  men.  Gold  could  not  buy 
him." 

In  speaking  of  his  habits,  the  general  said  he  was  a 


484  SUNSHINE   AND    SHADOW 

great  sleeper.  To  keep  him  in  good  working  ov!er,  lie 
wanted  nine  hours  of  solid  sleep  ;  he  could  use  fourteen, 
but  nine  he  must  have.  When  in  command  out  west 
he  could  only  sleep  seven  hours,  and  he  found  himself 
breaking  down.  While  in  New  York  with  General 
Grant,  Speaker  Colfax  related  a  characteristic  anecdote. 
The  House  of  Representatives  had  invited  General 
Grant  to  visit  their  chamber,  where  he  was  received 
with  all  honors.  He  was  greatly  embarrassed,  and  his 
position  was  a  painful  one.  Calls  from  all  parts  of  the 
House  required  the  general  to  take  the  speaker's  desk, 
that  he  might  be  seen.  The  speaker  touk  him  by  the 
arm  and  led  him  up  to  the  desk.  After  standing  there 
a  few  moments,  General  Grant,  in  the  tone  of  a  school- 
boy put  on  a  platform  for  punishment,  and  with  a  most 
imploring  look,  said,  "Mr.  Speaker,  may  I  now  go 
down  ?  "  He  was  so  evidently  distresse  I  that  his  friends 
could  not  think  of  detaining  him  out  moment  longer 
in  that  prominent  position. 


IN  NEW  YOKE.  485 


LX. 

ORIGIN    OF    THE    NEW    YORK    RELI- 
GIOUS   PRESS. 

DR.    MORSE    AND    HIS     SONS.  BOSTON    RECORDER. — THE    OLDEST     RELIGIOUS 

NEWSPAPER.  —  THE    FOUNDING    OF    THE    OBSERVER. 

THE  filling  of  Hollis  Professorship  at  Cambridge 
divided  the  Congregation  alls  ts  in  Massachusetts  into 
Unitarian  and  Trinitarian.  The  Unitarians  took  the 
college  and  nearly  all  the  Congregational  Churches  in 
Boston  and  the  surrounding  towns.  The  Old  South 
was  saved  to  the  Trinitarians  by  the  casting  vote  of 
Governor  Phillips,  the  father  of  Wendell.  The  ability 
and  courage  of  Dr.  Morse,  the  pastor  of  the  First 
Church  in  Charlestown,  saved  that  to  the  Evangelical 
faith.  The  Unitarians  sprang  into  existence  almost  in 
a  day,  and  became  a  great  political  power  in  the  state. 
All  the  important  offices,  such  as  those  of  senators, 
representatives  in  Congress,  legislature,  and  judge,  were 
held  by  men  professing  the  liberal  faith.  It  was  con- 
sidered a  great  concession  to  authority  when  George 
Briggs,  a  Baptist,  was  nominated  for  Governor.  Gov- 
ernor Briggs  sent  the  name  of  Mr.  Hubbard  to  the 
Council  as  a  Supreme  Court  judge.  It  was  considered 
doubtful  whether  the  Council  would  confirm  the  nomi- 


486  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

nation,  as  Mr.  Hubbard  was  a  Trinitarian.  Daniel 
Webster  left  Brattle  Street  Church  for  St.  Paul's, 
Episcopal.  His  political  friends  called  on  him  to  assure 
him  that  he  was  damaging  his  political  prospects  in 
that  step.  He  objected  to  the  preaching  at  Brattle 
Street,  and  compared  it  to  "  throwing  shot  on  shingles." 
Some  one  asked  him  if  he  believed  that  three  were  one, 
and  one  was  three.  He  replied,  "  Gentlemen,  we  know 
very  little  of  the  mathematics  of  heaven,  and  the  less 
we  talk  about  them  the  better."  This  brief  history  of 
the  situation  is  necessary  to  understand  what  is  to 
follow. 

DR.    MORSE    AND    HIS    SONS. 

Dr.  Morse,  of  Charlestown,  was  the  champion  of 
Orthodoxy,  and  his  pulpit  was  the  citadel  of  the  ancient 
fait.:.  He  was  bold,  brave,  far-seeing,  and  was  accepted 
on  all  hands  as  the  Evangelical  leader.  Many  ac- 
counted him  a  bigot,  and  believed  that  he  was  blunting 
the  intellect  of  his  children  by  training  them  on  the 
Bible,  catechism,  and  the  formula  of  Calvinism.  Yet 
the  genius  of  one  founded  the  national  journalism  of 
the  land,  and  the  intellect  of  the  other  gave  us  the 
telegraph.  The  power  of  the  press  was  well  known  to 
Dr.  Morse.  The  newspapers  of  the  day  were  in  the 
hands  of  the  opponents  of  Orthodoxy.  By  the  side  of 
the  news  found  in  the  journals,  were  lampoons  on  the 
religious  belief  of  the  Trinitarians,  and  insults  offered 
to  their  worship.  A  religious  newspaper  was  called  for. 
It  was  contemplated  and  was  intended  to  print  a  paper 
that  should  present  foreign  and  domestic  intelligence ; 
but  it  was  also  proposed  to  print  some  religious  news 
with  the  secular  portion  of  the  paper. 


IN   NEW  YORK.  487 


BOSTON   RECORDER. 

Proposals  were  issued  for  the  publication  of  a  paper 
to  be  called  the  Boston  Recorder.  These  proposals 
were  sent  to  all  the  Trinitarian  Churches.  It  was  esti- 
mated that  nine  hundred  and  fifty  subscribers  would 
support  the  paper.  A  printer  was  found  in  the  person 
of  Deacon  Willis,  father  of  Nathaniel  P.  \Villis.  Mr. 
Willis  had  been  conducting  the  Eastern  Argus  at  Port- 
land. He  was  now  in  Boston.  He  agreed  to  print 
the  new  paper  on  condition  that  he  should  be  paid  for 
his  services.  The  entire  income  of  the  Recorder  was 
pledged  to  him  till  he  should  be  fully  paid.  On  these 
conditions  he  agreed  to  issue  the  paper.  Sidney  Morse, 
son  of  Rev.  Dr.  Morse,  was  selected  to  take  charge  of 
the  new  paper.  Mr.  Everts,  editor  of  the  Panoplist, 
father  of  William  M.  Everts  of  this  city,  was  to  be 
editor-in-chief.  The  first  number  of  the  Recorder  was 
published  in  January,  1816.  Less  than  five  hundred 
subscribers  had  agreed  to  take  the  paper.  For  four 
weeks  fifteen  hundred  copies  were  printed.  Mr.  Willis 
became  alarmed,  and  pointed  to  the  files  of  unsold 
papers.  He  wras  not  paid  for  his  work,  and  refused  to 
print  another  number.  Dr.  Morse  offered  to  be  re- 
sponsible for  all  the  expense.  A  new  printer  was  ob- 
tained. Mr.  Everts  left  the  Recorder  in  the  hands  of 
his  youthful  associate.  In  two  months  the  paper  had 
exceeded  the  paying  point.  In  five  months  it  num- 
bered thirteen  hundred  subscribers.  Mr.  Willis  wished 
to  come  back,  as  the  pecuniary  success  of  the  concern 
was  made  certain.  A  proposition  was  made,  and  Mr. 
Morse,  by  an  instrument  still  in  existence  as  proprietor 
of  the  Recorder,  transferred  it  to  Mr.  Willis. 


488  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

THE  OLDEST  RELIGIOUS  NEWSPAPER. 

It  has  been  frequently  asserted  that  the  Boston 
Recorder  is  the  oldest  religious  paper  in  the  world. 
Such  is  not  the  fact.  The  first  religious  newspaper 
was  published  by  Rev.  Elias  Smith,  of  Portsmouth,  New 
Hampshire.  The  first  number  was  issued  in  1808, 
under  the  auspices  of  the  sect  called  Christians.  It  has 
been  published  regularly  from  that  time  to  the  present. 
Complete  files  of  the  paper  are  preserved.  I  have  often 
heard  Rev.  Elias  Smith  give  an  account  of  the  early 
trials  and  discouragement  that  attended  that  paper.  It 
was  considered  almost  sacrilegious  to  issue  a  religious 
print.  The  preachers  regarded  the  project  with  disfa- 
vor. But  the  editor  saw  no  reason  why  the  church 
should  not  have  an  organ,  as  well  as  trade  and  politi- 
cians. Amid  poverty  and  great  opposition  the  religious 
press  was  launched,  and  has  been  a  success  from  that 
hour. 

THE  FOUNDING  OF  THE  OBSERVER. 

Mr.  Morse  left  the  Recorder  in  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Willis.  The  concerted  action  of  the  enemies  of  the 
church  aroused  her  friends  in  all  quarters.  The  bloody 
battles  of  Europe  were  ended,  and  Napoleon  banished 
to  Helena.  On  the  wings  of  peace  religion  was  poising' 
herself  for  a  great  flight.  The  American  Board  had 
just  been  formed.  The  Bible,  tract,  and  other  national 
societies  were  springing  into  existence.  Far-seeing 
men  felt  the  need  of  a  great  central  organ,  located  in 
New  York,  to  be  national  in  all  its  parts,  catholic  in 
its  spirit,  and  not  sectarian,  —  a  paper  which  should 
support  the  great  institutions,  and  represent  the  spirit 


IN   NEW  YORK.  489 

of  the  age.  Young  Morse  had  already  turned  his  eye 
towards  this  centre.  A  society  had  been  formed  at 
Andover  some  years  before,  embracing  the  noblest 
spirits  in  the  seminary,  most  of  whom  afterwards  fell 
beneath  the  banner  of  the  cross  on  heathen  ground. 
The  object  of  this  society  was  to  devise  plans  for 
doing  good.  Sidney  E.  Morse,  in  1818,  read  a  paper 
at  one  of  these  meetings,  on  the  benefits  to  religion 
of  an  ably  conducted  newspaper,  to  be  published  in 
New  York,  whose  influence  should  be  on  the  side  of 
the  church.  He  proposed  to  make  the  paper  a  neces- 
sity, being  so  ably  conducted,  and  with  such  a  Christian 
spirit,  that  a  Christian  family  could  not  be  without  it. 
Such  was  the  bigotry  and  exclusiveness  of  the  liberal- 
ism of  his  native  state,  and  such  the  hatred  borne  to 
his  father,  that  Mr.  Morse  knew  he  had  no  chance  to 
rise  in  Massachusetts.  He  removed  to  New  York,  and 
in  1823  established  the  Observer  as  a  first-class  news- 
paper, national  in  its  scope  and  evangelical  in  its 
spirit.  As  it  was  founded,  so  it  is  carried  on.  It  has 
always  been  distinguished  for  the  ability  with  which  it 
has  been  conducted.  It  commands  the  best  talent  in 
the  land.  Its  correspondence,  foreign  and  domestic,  is 
full,  fresh,  talented,  and  reliable.  No  one  rises  from 
its  perusal  without  an  intelligent  knowledge  of  the 
things  that  pertain  to  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  the 
up-building  and  progress  of  the  kingdom  of  our  Lord. 


490  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXI. 

THE    PECULIARITIES    OF    NEW    YORK 
CHURCHES. 

CLERICAL  REPUTE.  —  FLUCTUATION    OP    CHURCHES.  GRACE  CHURCH.  —  WAT- 
SIDE    WORSHIP. TREATMENT    OF    STRANGERS. 

NEW  YORK  is  unlike  any  other  city  on  the  face  of  the 
globe.  In  her  churches  she  is  more  peculiar  than  in 
anything  else.  She  has  a  style  of  her  own  ecclesias- 
tically. On  Sunday  morning  almost  all  the  churches 
are  well  attended.  The  Sunday  dinner  —  the  only 
meal  in  the  week,  perhaps,  in  which  the  husband  and 
father  is  at  home  —  prevents  afternoon  worship. 
The  Sunday  evening  congregations  are  usually  very 
small,  except  when  some  stirring  theme  is  to  be  pre- 
sented, or  a  sensation  preacher  promises  to  entertain 
the  crowd. 

CLERICAL    REPUTE. 

A  local  reputation  will  not  serve  a  man  in  the  city. 
No  matter  how  popular  he  is  at  home,  or  how  eloquent 
he  may  be,  it  will  not  avail  him  unless  the  New  Yorkers 
know  him.  Men  who  can  fill  the  largest  houses  in 
other  cities  preach  to  empty  benches  in  New  York ; 
and  no  amount  of  advertising  will  draw  if  the  party  is 


IN   NEW    YORK.  491 

a  stranger.  New  York  tries  a  minister  more  than  any 
other  city.  If  he  has  mettle  in  him,  and  patience,  he 
will  succeed.  Men  of  marked  ability  and  talent  get  a 
call  to  New  York,  and  are  as  completely  lost  as  if 
settled  at  Sandy  Hook.  It  is  a  great  wonder  that  any 
one  well  settled  will  come  to  the  city.  A  few  large, 
rich  congregations  are  all  well  enough.  The  great 
mass  of  the  churches  are  poor.  To  build  houses  and 
maintain  public  worship  cost  a  great  deal.  Living  is 
high,  and  ministers  are  cramped,  hedged  in,  and  con- 
lined.  Hundreds  of  families,  who,  before  they  moved 
to  New  York,  supported  and  attended  public  worship, 
do  neither  after  they  come.  Pew  rents  are  very  high, 
and  a  man  on  a  small  salary,  with  a  small  income, 
might  as  well  attempt  to  live  on  Fifth  Avenue  as  to 
attend  a  fashionable  place  of  worship.  Hosts  of  persons 
professing  to  be  Christians  have  no  religious  home,  but 
from  year  to  year  drift  round  from  church  to  church, 
and  pick  up  their  spiritual  provender  where  they  can 
find  it.  The  population  is  constantly  changing  from 
the  east  side  to  the  west,  from  the  west  side  to  the 
north,  from  the  north  to  Brooklyn,  from  Brooklyn  to 
the  country,  and  from  the  country  back  again  to  New 
York.  Many  persons  are  exceedingly  liberal  in  their 
contributions  to  religious  objects.  The  mass  care  but 
little,  and  the  whole  burden  falls  on  a  few.  The  popu- 
lation fluctuates,  and  the  labor  of  keeping  a  city  charge 
together  is  very  great.  Many  pastors  have  left  a  large, 
warm-hearted,  liberal  people  in  the  country  for  a  church 
in  New  York.  Their  salaries,  large  as  they  seemed, 
proved  inadequate  to  a  comfortable  support.  After 
spending  what  they  saved  in  their  rural  home,  they 


492  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

retired  from  the  city  in  disgust.  A  Connecticut  pastor 
moved  to  this  city  not  long  since.  He  had  a  com- 
manding church,  and  was  one  of  the  most  popular  men 
in  New  England.  He  was  called  to  what  had  been 
one  of  the  most  fashionable  churches.  It  had  begun  to 
wane  before  he  came  to  the  city.  The  influence  he 
had  in  other  places  did  not  avail  him  here.  His  con- 
gregation steadily  decreased,  and  he  soon  resigned. 

Fashion  has  a  great  deal  to  do  with  ministerial  suc- 
cess: New  York  has  great  business  talent,  but  it  is 
less  sesthetical,  less  literary.  The  standard  of  intelli- 
gence is  much  lower  than  in  any  of  the  rural  towns. 
Pulpit  ability  need  not  be  high  to  satisfy  the  church- 
goers of  New  York,  but  it  must  be  fashionable.  If  a 
man  has  a  congregation  composed  of  the  upper-ten, 
though  his  pulpit  talents  be  small,  and  his  oratory 
positively  bad,  he  will  have  a  success.  If  he  has  not  a 
good  position,  he  will  struggle  in  vain  against  the 
worldliness  of  the  city,  and  fight  hard  to  keep  pov- 
erty from  his  door.  In  a  few  instances  the  settle- 
ments in  New  York  churches  are  very  long.  In  most 
cases,  however,  pastors  come  and  go.  In  one  denomi- 
nation, the  members  of  one  association,  and  that  a  very 
large  one,  all  changed  their  pastorates  in  ten  years. 

FLUCTUATION    OF    CHURCHES. 

At  one  time  all  the  leading  churches  were  down 
town.  They  are  now  nearly  all  up  town.  They  are 
so  near  together  that  the  singing  of  one  church  can  be 
heard  in  another.  Between  Twentieth  and  Forty- 
eighth  Streets,  and  between  Fourth  Avenue  and  Broad- 
way, there  are  probably  more  costly  churches  than  can 


IN   NEW   YORK.  493 

be  found  in  the  same  space  in  any  other  part  of  the 
world.  They  have  outrun  the  population,  and  nearly 
all  are  thinly  attended. 

This  up-town  movement  is  a  very  queer  thing.  The 
old  Wall  Street  Church  began  it  many  years  ago.  The 
society  purchased  a  square  in  an  un paved,  muddy,  and 
untried  locality,  giving  little  promise  that  it  was  to  be 
the  abode  of  wealth  and  fashion.  A  costly  church  was 
built,  which  still  stands  on  Fifth  Avenue  and  Twelfth 
Street.  The  Duane  Street  Church  followed,  and  built 
a  costly  edifice  on  the  corner  of  University  Place  and 
Tenth  Street.  Those  new  churches  made  a  heavy 
drain  on  the  down-town  societies,  and  took  the  wealthy 
men  who  were  driven  from  their  homes  clown  town  by 
trade.  For  a  time  they  became  the  aristocratic 
churches  of  the  city.  The  Rivington  Street  Church 
having  been  depleted  by  the  up-town  movement,  took 
a  start  and  erected  a  fine  brown-stone  edifice  on  the 
corner  of  Fourteenth  Street  and  Second  Avenue,  then 
a  fashionable  locality.  Broorne  Street  Church  caught 
the  fashionable  fever,  secured  that  most  eligible  site 
corner  of  Madison  Avenue  and  Twenty-fourth  Street, 
and  put  up  one  of  the  richest  and  most  gaudy  edifices 
in  New  York.  The  churches  which  had  gone  up  town, 
and  stripped  the  humbler  congregations  of  men  of 
wealth  and  ladies  of  fashion,  had  a  tribute  of  justice 
meted  out  to  them.  Madison  Avenue  Church  became 
the  height  of  fashion,  and  served  the  up-town  churches 
as  they  had  served- their  brethren  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  city.  The  'Old  Brick  Church  at  the  Park  followed 
in  the  wake  of  sister  societies,  secured  a  most  fashion- 
able site  on  Fifth  Avenue,  and  outbuilt  all  churches 


494  SUNSHINE   AND    SHADOW 

and  outtopped  all  steeples.  The  work  of  removal  still 
goes  on.  Feeble  down-town  societies,  which  could 
scarcely  live,  sell  their  valuable  sites  for  merchandise, 
and  are  able  to  build  a  costly  up-town  church.  Go  as 
high  as  a  congregation  will,  some  church  will  outstrip 
them,  and  secure  the  fashionables,  who  are  ever  on  the 
wing  for  a  new  aristocratic  place  of  worship. 

GRACE    CHURCH. 

For  nearly  twenty  years  Grace  Church  has  resisted 
all  the  fluctuations  of  the  city.  It  led  in  the  up-town 
movement.  From  its  location  below  Trinity  Church  it 
removed  to  its  present  commanding  site  on  the  bend  of 
Broadway,  at  the  head  of  Eleventh  Street.  It  has 
always  been  crowded  with  the  intelligence,  wealth,  and 
fashion  of  New  York.  Its  singing  has  always  been  one 
of  its  great  features,  and  has  never  been  surpassed. 
To  be  married  in  Grace  Church  has  been  regarded  as 
the  height  of  earthly  felicity.  It  boasts  the  most  noted 
sexton  on  the  continent.  Brown  of  Grace  Church  is 
known  everywhere.  He  is  a  man  of  immense  size. 
His  face  is  very  red,  and  he  has  the  air  of  a  boatswain. 
It  is  worth  a  visit  to  Grace  Church  to  be  ushered  into 
a  pew  by  Brown.  With  his  coat  flying  open,  with  the 
speed  of  a  man  who  is  under  a  great  pressure,  and  with 
the  air  of  an  alderman  handing  a  bowl  of  soup  to  a 
charity  boy,  he  shows  y6u  into  a  seat,  and  impresses 
you  with  his  condescension  as  he  closes  the  door.  He 
is  immensely  popular  with  the  elite  of  New  York.  No 
party,  bridal,  or  burial  is  considered  complete  without 
him.  He  keeps  on  hand  any  quantity  of  dukes,  mar- 
quises, counts,  and  distinguished  foreigners,  ready  to  be 


IN  NEW  YORK.  495 

served  at  popular  parties  at  a  moment's  notice.  Out- 
side of  Grace  Church,  on  Sunday  morning,  can  be  seen 
the  finest  turnouts  in  the  city,  —  carriages,  coupes, 
cabriolets,  with  coachmen  and  footmen  in  livery, — 
which  fill  the  street,  making  it  gay  and  brilliant  for 
blocks  around. 

WAYSIDE    WORSHIP. 

All  sorts  of  plans  are  resorted  to,  to  get  an  audience. 
Ministers  preach  from  the  decks  of  ships  and  in  bar- 
rooms, in  halls  and  in  theatres,  under  tents  and  in  bil- 
liard-rooms, in  public  parks  and  in  public  gardens.  To 
reach  the  masses,  a  benevolent  gentleman  hired  Cooper 
Institute  for  one  year,  paying  two  thousand  dollars  for 
its  use  on  Sunday.  It  was  thrown  open  to  the  public. 
The  movement  was  a  failure,  for  the  people  would  not 
attend.  The  Academy  of  Music  has  been  thrown  open, 
with  assembly  rooms,  and  opera  houses.  If  they  were 
filled,  the  stated  ministrations  of  the  gospel  were 
neglected.  Small  congregations  gather  to  hear  men 
and  women  preach  ultraism  on  the  Lord's  Day.  Long- 
bearded  men  and  strong-minded  women  officiate,  with- 
out disturbing  very  much  the  regular  worship  of  the 
city.  Nothing  is  more  curious  than  the  Sunday  notices 
which  fill  the  Sunday  papers.  At  one  time  the  regular 
churches  scorned  to  advertise.  They  left  this  custom 
to  the  erratic  and  sensational,  and  to  men  getting  up 
new  congregations.  But  religious  advertising  has  be- 
come a  necessity, and  new  congregations  cannot  dispense 
with  it.  Sunday  notices  indicate  the  religious  teaching 
of  the  day.  Odd  texts  and  queer  themes  are  put  forth 
to  attract  the  floating  masses.  No  subject  comes  amiss. 
Themes  are  announced  that  are  suited  to  a  French 


496  SUNSHIN-E    AND     SlIADOW 

Sabbath  better  than  to  a  Christian  one.  Others  are 
advertised  that  would  conform  to  a  New  England  Sun- 
day. The  Turks,  the  Chinese,  Pagan  and  Infidel, 
the  Catholic,  Jews,  with  all  grades  of  Protestants,  keep 
Sunday  after  their  own  fashion.  Operatic  choirs,  Scotch 
precentors,  and  surpliced  boys,  lead  the  devotions. 
Scraggly  prophets  prophesy  to  a  handful  of  old  women 
and  a  few  damsels  in  bloomer  costume,  about  the 
coming  doom.  Daniel's  horns  are  explained  by  men 
who  preach  to  the  few  faithful ;  and  worship  adapted 
to  every  nationality  and  form  of  belief  can  be  found 
on  the  Sabbath. 

TREATMENT    OF    STRANGERS. 

Much  complaint  exists  that  New  York  church-goers 
are  proud,  exclusive,  and  rude  to  strangers.  In  most 
New  York  churches  the  seats  are  abundant,  and  stran- 
gers are  welcome.  A  few  aristocratic  churches  are 
crowded,  and  some  sensational  houses  are  jammed. 
New  York  is  full  of  strangers.  They  are  here  to  see  the 
sights.  They  want  to  enjoy  the  five  thousand  dollar 
choir.  They  want  to  hear  the  minister  that  is  paid 
thirteen  thousand  dollars  a  year,  and  earns  twenty-five 
thousand  more  by  speaking  and  lecturing.  Besides 
these  strangers,  we  have  in  New  York  a  boomful  of 
drift  wood,  who  float  round  popular  assemblies,  and 
demand  the  best  pews.  These  come  to  see,  not  to  wor- 
ship. They  gape,  and  stare,  and  whisper,  and  sit  bolt  up- 
right during  prayer.  Their  boldness,  flippant  talk,  and 
rudeness  annoy  regular  worshippers.  They  criticise  the 
minister,  wonder  how  old  he  is,  and  if  he  is  married. 
They  criticise  the  singing,  the  length  of  the  sermon, 


IN  NEW   YORK.  497 

take  out  their  watches,  and  wish  the  thing  was  done. 
Congregations  tire  of  this ;  they  are  not  honored  by 
having  such  persons  occupy  their  pews;  and  when 
strangers  complain  through  the  newspapers  that  they 
have  to  stand  in  the  vestibule,  and  that  no  one  invites 
them  to  a  seat,  they  can  find  the  reason  in  the  rude 
and  ill-mannered  behavior  of  a  large  class  of  strangers 
who  beset  our  churches. 
32 


498  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


LXII. 

MINISTERS'    CHILDREN. 

THE  sons  and  daughters  of  the  rich  men  of  a  quarter 
of  a  century  ago  are  generally  poor.  The  rich  men 
of  this  day  are  not  the  sons  of  the  rich.  With  few  ex- 
ceptions they  are  sons  of  porters,  bootblacks,  sawers 
of  wood,  and  heavers  of  coal.  They  have  been  archi- 
tects of  their  own  fortunes.  Young  men  brought  up 
in  idleness  and  luxury,  expecting  to  inherit  their 
fathers'  wealth,  are  now  porters,  draymen,  or  ticket- 
takers.  Daughters  reared  in  affluence,  and  who  never 
expected  to  want,  are  undergoing  privations  among  the 
children  of  toil.  Not  a  few  have  exchanged  an  elegant 
mansion  for  a  room  in  a  tenement-house.  The  chil- 
dren of  ministers  are  generally  the  objects  of  sympathy. 
They  occupy  that  narrow  selvage  of  land  between  gen- 
tility and  want.  They  are  patronized  and  pitied.  Dona- 
tion and  sewing  parties  are  got  up  for  them.  They 
are  exempt  from  contributions  to  benevolent  objects  in 
deference  to  their  poverty.  The  remains  of  the  fair 
are  sent  to  the  parsonage,  with  cast-off  dresses  to  be 
turned  for  the  children.  The  wife  of  the  merchant, 
the  lawyer,  and  doctor  will  allow  the  minister's  chil- 
dren to  play  with  their  own  out  of  deference  to  the 
cloth  ;  but  it  is  done  with  an  air  of  patronage  that 


IN  NEW   YORK.  499 

cuts  to  the  bone.  But  life  in  New  York  shows  that  the 
home  training,  discipline,  and  privation  of  the  parson- 
age yield  beneficent  fruits.  Whatever  else  our  min- 
isters' children  may  lack,  they  do  not  lack  culture  and 
sound  moral  training.  They  are  early  introduced  into 
the  best  of  society,  and  they  have  an  independence  that 
is  valuable  to  them  in  all  after  life. 

The  sons  of  clergymen  in  New  York  are  among  the 
most  eminent  bankers,  able  and  accomplished  lawyers, 
merchants  of  success  and  forecast.  Most  ingenious  and 
beneficent  inventors  belong  to  this  class.  The  daughters 
dwell  in  sumptuous  palaces.  They  give  tone  to  society, 
and  their  husbands  are  the  most  honorable  and  learned 
of  men.  The  children  of  the  wealthy,  in  the  homes 
where  these  daughters  were  trained,  to  whom  the 
minister's  children  did  not  dare  to  lift  up  their  eyes, 
are  in  subordinate  positions.  Some  of  them  are  in  the 
employ  of  these  very  children  of  the  parsonage  whom 
they  patronized  in  other  days. 

There  are  residing  in  New  York  a  great  many 
clergymen  without  parishes.  Sickness  and  various 
other  causes  have  induced  clergymen  to  leave  their 
societies  and  dwell  in  New  York.  They  dress  well,  and 
live  in  fine  establishments.  The  wonder  is  how  they 
live.  The  mystery  is  explained  when  it  is  known  that 
the  son  or  daughter  has  a  snug  corner  for  the 
parent.  Not  long  since  a  clergyman  was  dismissed 
from  New  York  because  he  was  old.  His  son,  a  suc- 
cessful merchant,  bought  a  fine  church,  fitted  it  up  in 
elegant  style,  deeded  it  to  his  father,  and  will  support 
him  while  he  lives. 

The  clergy  of  America  have  no  reason  to  blush  for 


500  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  position  they  hold,  or  for  that  of  their  children. 
They  founded  this  nation  in  the  cabin  of  the  Mayflower, 
and  on  the  stormy  waters  of  Massachusetts.  They  laid 
down  the  great  principle,  which  has  made  America  a 
mighty  nation,  that  majorities  must  govern.  They  laid 
the  foundation  of  colleges  in  their  poverty.  They 
founded  our  great  libraries  by  donations  of  books  from 
their  scanty  store.  It  was  through  their  influence  that 
the  school-house  and  church  stood  side  by  side  ;  that 
all  should  have  the  Bible  in  their  own  language,  and 
learning  enough  to  read  it.  Washington  bears  witness, 
in  letters  still  extant,  that  the  clergy  were  a  power  on 
the  part  of  the  people  in  the  war  of  the  Revolution. 
They  were  commissaries  in  the  army,  officers  and 
soldiers.  They  preached  and  prayed  for  the  great 
cause,  and  made  their  scanty  salaries  still  more  scanty, 
that  America  might  take  her  place  among  the  nations 
of  the  earth. 


I»  NEW  YOEE.  501 


LXIII. 

REV,     DR.     WILLIAM     ADAMS,     OF     THE 
PRESBYTERIAN    CHURCH. 

HIS   EARLY  CAREER,  —  MINISTRY   IN   NEW  YORK,  —  MADISON  AVENUE  CHURCH, 

SECRET    OP    SUCCESS.  —  HIS      STYLE    OF    PREACHING. HIS    POSITION.  — 

»R,    ADAMS   A3   AN   AUTHOR.  —  A   FASHIONABLE   UP-TOWN   CHURCH. 

DR.  ADAMS  is  one  of  the  marked  men  of  New  York, 
He  is  the  patriarch  of  the  Presbyterian  pulpit  He 
has  been  in  the  settled  ministry  over  thirty  years,  and 
is  still  in  the  full  vigor  of  health  and  success.  His 
church  is  in  a  fashionable  locality.  Every  sitting  in 
the  house  is  rented,  and  probably  no  congregation  in 
the  land  embraces  so  much  wealth,  so  much  business 
talent,  so  much  social  and  political  influence,  so  many 
active  and  prosperous  merchants,  so  many  energetic 
young  Christians,  —  men  whose  names  are  known 
abroad  as  our  most  eminent  bankers,  princely  mer- 
chants, large-hearted  and  generous  givers.  To  be  the 
pastor  of  such  a  people  for  thirty  years,  to  keep  abreast 
with  this  stirring  age,  overflowing  a  church  when  every- 
thing is  evanescent  and  changing,  to  stand  at  his  post 
for  over  a  quarter  of  a  century,  and,  without  a  question, 
lead  the  New  York  pulpit,  indicates  no  common 
ability. 


502  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


HIS    EARLY    CAREER. 

He  was  born  in  Colchester,  Conn.  When  an  infant 
he  was  removed  to  Andover,  Mass.,  his  father  becom- 
ing principal  of  the  celebrated  academy  of  that  town. 
John  Adams,  the  father  of  William,  was  one  of  the 
most  celebrated  teachers  of  his  day.  His  pupils  are 
among  our  most  eminent  clergymen  and  laymen. 
They  are  scattered  over  the  missionary  stations  of  the 
world  ;  are  among  our  most  eminent  Biblical  scholars ; 
they  are  presidents  of  colleges  and  professors  of  theo- 
logical schools,  and  fill  our  most  popular  pulpits. 
Trained  under  his  father,  the  protege  of  Professor 
Stuart,  he  had  eminent  advantages  for  preparing  him- 
self for  the  great  work  of  the  ministry,  to  which  he 
early  consecrated  all  his  talents.  His  boyhood  was 
passed  in  the  company  of  Judson,  whose  labors  in 
Burmah  are  imperishable  ;  Gordon  Hall ;  Newell,  who 
translated  the  word  of  God  in  Mahratta ;  Winslow  and 
Spaulding,  who  did  the  same  work  in  Tamul ;  Thurston 
and  Bingham  of  the  Sandwich  Islands ;  Goodell  in 
Armenia  ;  Temple  and  King  in  Greece  ;  Byington  and 
Kingsley  among  the  Choctaws ;  Bridgman  in  China ; 
Schauffler  among  the  Hebrews  in  Palestine,  and  Per- 
kins in  Syria.  When  a  boy,  the  first  dollar  William 
donated  was  a  gift  to  the  missionary  cause.  He  settled 
in  Brighton,  near  Boston,  when  the  evangelical  cause 
was  weak,  and  his  ministry  was  at  once  attended  with 
marked  success.  He  was  one  of  a  company  of  young 
ministers  who  met  once  a  week  in  Dr.  Beecher's  study 
in  Boston  for  improvement;  and  Dr.  Adams  is  only 
too  glad  to  acknowledge  the  great  benefit  he  derived 


IN   NEW   YORK.  503 

from  those  interviews  with  this  eloquent  man,  who 
took  so  kindly  to  the  younger  members  of  the  pro- 
fession. 

MINISTRY    IN   NEW    YORK. 

The  climate  of  New  England  being  too  severe  for 
the  health  of  Mrs.  Adams,  Dr.  Adams  was  induced  to 
try  a  winter  in  New  York,  for  the  double  purpose  of 
getting  the  benefit  of  the  climate  and  the  skill  of  an 
eminent  physician.  Without  the  thought  of  remaining 
in  New  York,  Dr.  Adams  took  rooms  in  Park  Place, 
then  a  fashionable  locality,  but  quite  up  town.  The 
wealthy  of  New  York  lived  in  that  neighborhood. 
From  Broadway  to  Greenwich,  and  up  as  far  as  Cham- 
bers, the  solid  men  of  the  city  had  their  homes.  Grace 
Church  was  below  Trinity.  The  Old  Brick  Church 
was  almost  out  of  the  reach  of  the  down-town  popula- 
tion. Trinity  was  the  centre  of  fashion.  The  Old 
North  Church  was  filled  with  the  Dutch  aristocracy. 
Potts  was  in  fashionable  upper  New  York,  on  Duane 
Street.  Maccauly  preached  to  his  wealthy  congrega- 
tion on  Murray  Street.  Edward  Everett  had  dedicated 
the  first  Unitarian  Church  on  Chambers  Street.  Mason 
was  far  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city,  on  Bleecker 
Street.  Dr.  Matthews's  church,  above  Bleecker,  was  in 
the  ultra  fashionable  location  of  Washington  Square. 
A  ministry  of  thirty-three  years  can  mark  great  changes 
in  churches  and  people.  Most  of  the  church  edifices 
have  passed  away  ;  the  ministry  have  gone  —  most  of 
them  to  the  house  appointed  for  all  living.  Of  the 
early  associates  of  his  pastoral  life  in  New  York,  few 
remain  to  exchange  Christian  salutations. 

Before  Dr.  Adams  received  a  call  in  New  York,  he 


504  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

resigned  his  connection  with  his  church  in  Brighton, 
and  was  dismissed.  A  call  was  extended  to  him  from 
the  Broome  Street  Church,  which  he  accepted.  He 
was  then  twenty-seven  years  of  age.  The  church  was 
very  much  run  down  ;  but  his  ministry  was  successful, 
and  for  eighteen  years  he  remained  pastor.  He  had 
no  ambition  for  an  up-town  location,  and  the  steps 
taken  to  build  the  imposing  edifice  in  which  he  now 
preaches  did  not  originate  with  himself.  The  Broome 
Street  Church  contained  an  unusual  number  of  earnest 
and  successful  men.  The  Pearl  Street  Church  was  in  a 
feeble  condition,  and  it  was  proposed  to  unite  that 
with  the  Broome  Street  Church,  and  place  over  the 
united  enterprise  the  pastor  of  the  Pearl  Street  con- 
gregation. This  plan  being  satisfactory  to  all  parties, 
and  leaving  the  lower  part  of  the  city  well  supplied, 
Dr.  Adams  consented,  with  a  portion  of  his  flock,  to  go 
farther  up  town. 

MADISON    AVENUE    CHURCH. 

Trade,  like  a  flood,  had  driven  families  from  lower 
New  York.  A  loud  demand  was  made  for  a  place  of 
worship  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city.  The  little  band 
that  went  out  from  Broome  Street  were  not  wealthy. 
They  were  gifted,  ardent,  and  devoted.  They  left  all 
their  church  property  with  the  congregation  down 
town.  A  most  desirable  location  was  secured  on  Madi- 
son Avenue,  and  on  it  was  reared  a  church  not  exceeded 
in  elegance,  comfort,  and  capacity  by  any  in  the  city. 
The  edifice  is  of  stone,  and  the  tall  steeple  is  of  the 
same  material  to  the  vane.  It  cost  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  thousand  dollars,  every  dollar  of  which 


IN   NEW   YORK.  505 

was  paid  by  voluntary  contributions,  and  not  a  dollar 
of  debt  remains  on  the  edifice.  The  magnificent  ceiling 
would  be  pronounced  gaudy,  were  it  not  toned  down  by 
the  black  walnut  of  the  pews,  pulpit,  and  organ.  The 
new  congregation  gathered  first  in  the  chapel  of  the 
Union  Theological  Seminary,  but  soon  removed  to  Hope 
Chapel,  where  worship  was  continued  till  the  dedication 
of  the  new  edifice  in  December,  1854.  From  the  open- 
ing of  this  church,  thirteen  years  ago,  to  the  present 
time,  it  has  been  literally  crowded.  Such  a  congrega- 
tion, regularly  filling  every  seat  and  pew  in  the  house, 
cannot  be  found  in  the  city.  Strangers  are  accommo- 
dated with  seats  on  camp  stools,  double  rows  of  which 
line  the  aisles.  The  passages  between  the  pews  in  the 
galleries  are  filled  at  the  ordinary  services  of  the  Sab- 
bath. The  congregation  is  a  remarkable  one.  It  em- 
braces a  great  number  of  men  —  young  men,  men 
eminent  in  the  professions  and  among  the  merchants, 
men  of  all  parties  and  callings.  It  is  a  vigorous  and 
live  people.  There  is  an  elasticity  in  the  very  atmos- 
phere of  the  place  which  all  feel.  The  singing  is  of 
the  first  class.  The  men  in  the  pews  are  at  once  rec- 
ognized as  our  most  noted  merchants,  bankers,  and 
millionnaires,  with  active  politicians  of  all  parties. 

SECRET    OF    SUCCESS. 

This  lies  on  the  surface.  Dr.  Adams  is  a  gentleman 
of  taste  and  refinement.  He  is  eminently  social,  genial, 
of  warm  affections  and  sympathies,  a  devoted  friend, 
a  laborious  pastor,  a  learned  and  earnest  preacher.  In 
his  dress,  appearance,  and  manner,  in  the  pulpit  and 
out  of  it,  he  meets  the  popular  idea  of  what  a  clergy- 


506  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

man  should  be.  He  is  prudent,  conservative,  and 
eminently  wise  in  the  management  of  his  pastoral 
duties.  He  has  strong  common  sense,  and  is  a  keen 
observer  of  passing  events.  He  rides  no  hobbies,  and 
all  know  that  whatever  subject  he  touches  will  be 
treated  with  decorum,  ability,  and  eloquence.  He 
possesses  the  gift,  not  common,  of  putting  himself  in 
sympathy  with  his  audience  by  a  sort  of  electric  bond, 
and  he  holds  their  closest  attention  when  he  addresses 
them.  He  is  a  man  of  extensive  reading  ;  he  is  familiar 
with  every  fresh  work,  and  nothing  seems  to  escape 
him.  He  is  perfectly  at  home  in  all  departments  of 
general  knowledge.  Of  the  literature  of  the  church  — 
its  biography,  history,  geography,  hymnology  —  he  is 
master.  Coming  on  to  the  stage  with  the  men  who 
founded  the  great  institutions,  such  as  the  Foreign 
Mission,  the  Bible  and  Tract  Societies,  he  is  familiar 
with  all  the  thrilling  incidents  of  men  and  matters 
which  have  marked  the  pathway  of  the  church  for 
half  a  century.  His  memory  is  a  vast  storehouse  of 
anecdote,  illustration,  facts,  and  graphic  occurrences, 
gathered  from  books,  nature,  and  men.  He  has  trav- 
elled all  over  the  world,  and  with  his  eyes  open.  There 
is  nothing  startling  or  extravagant  in  his  performances ; 
he  shrinks  from  display,  and  from  being  thought  sensa- 
tional. But  there  is  a  tender  persuasiveness,  the  elo- 
quence of  quiet  earnestness,  that  becomes  a  messenger 
from  God  to  men,  which  captivates  and  leads  to  the 
cross. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  507 

HIS  STYLE  OF  PREACHING. 

Dr.  Adams  comes  to  his  people  each  Sabbath  as  fresh 
as  the  day  that  he  was  installed.  His  sermons  are 
scholarly,  without  pedantry.  He  recognizes  the  power 
of  illustration.  His  metaphors  are  drawn  largely  from 
books,  and  in  this  lies  much  of  his  freshness.  Every 
new  book  or  review  that  is  valuable  is  seized,  and 
made  tributary  to  the  sermon.  He  uses  selections  as 
he  would  choice  diamonds  loaned  to.  him.  He  labels 
them,  and  puts  upon  them  the  owner's  name,  to  enhance 
their  value.  The  names  of  Shakespeare  and  Dante, 
Milton  and  Macaulay,  Scott  and  Thackeray,  Butler  and 
Bryant,  with  poets,  philosophers,  and  inventors,  are 
familiar  to  his  congregation,  and  contribute  to  the 
interest  of  the  discourse.  Dr.  Adams  has  never  sought 
to  be  a  platform  speaker.  The  old  New  England  cus- 
tom of  writing  sermons  in  full,  and  reading  them,  he 
has  followed  through  all  the  years  of  his  pastoral  life. 
He  prepares  with  great  care  and  labor,  but  is  not  con- 
fined to  his  notes  in  delivery.  He  dresses  with  great 
neatness  and  proprietj7,  holding  out  what  Sydney  Smith 
calls  the  signals  of  his  profession  —  "  black  and  white." 
.He  comes  in  at  a  given  hour  from  a  side  door  near  the 
pulpit,  and  ascends  the  desk.  He  does  not  make  it  a 
dressing-room.  He  has  arrayed  himself  elsewhere. 
There  is  a  vigorous  freshness  in  the  congregation  that 
greets  him.  A  house  in  which  it  is  difficult  to  get 
seats  is  filled  early.  Few  stragglers  come  in  after  the 
pastor  has  entered  the  desk.  The  services  conducted 
by  him  are  appropriate,  impressive,  and  interesting. 
His  people  lie  very  near  his  heart,  and  there  is  a 


508  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

tender  beauty  with  which  he  bears  their  woes,  wants, 
sorrows  and  joys  to  God. 

HIS  POSITION, 

As  a  citizen  in  the  home  of  his  adoption  no  man 
ranks  higher.  Among  scholars  he  is  honored  as  a 
preacher  of  high  literary  and  theological  attainment. 
Among  the  churches,  where  he  has  so  long  maintained 
a  preeminent  rank,  where  his  freedom  from  sectarian- 
ism and  his  earnest  advocacy  of  every  humane  and 
beneficent  cause  are  so  well  known,  and  his  genial, 
brotherly  spirit  so  highly  prized,  he  is  held  in  universal 
esteem.  He  has  received  the  highest  college  honors. 
His  denomination  has  conferred  upon  him  every  mark 
of  confidence  and  esteem  in  its  power  to  bestow.  As 
Moderator  of  the  General  Assembly  at  Washington,  it 
was  the  duty  of  Dr.  Adams  to  address  the  President  on 
a  visit  of  that  body  to  the  Executive  Mansion.  His 
speech  introducing  the  members,  for  beauty  of  thought 
and  graceful  elegance  of  manner  could  not  have  been 
excelled. 

DR.    ADAMS    AS    AN   AUTHOR. 

The  published  works  of  Dr.  Adams  are  not  numerous. 
He  has  spent  his  strength  on  his  sermons,  and  given  to 
his  own  people  the  rich,  ripe  thoughts  of  his  mature 
life.  He  wove  a  grateful  and  beautiful  wreath  upon 
the  grave  of  his  beloved  teacher  and  friend  in  his 
tribute  to  the  memory  of  Professor  Stuart.  His  work, 
entitled  the  "  Three  Gardens —  Eden,  Gethsemane,  and 
Paradise,"  typifying  apostasy,  redemption,  and  heaven, 
is  a  graceful  exposition  of  evangelical  Christianity.  His 
most  popular  and  recent  work,  entitled  "  Thanksgiving," 


IN  NEW  YORK.  509 

is  just  from  the  press.  A  New  England  man,  loving 
the  home  of  his  youth,  he  has  drawn  some  sketches  of 
the  homely,  happy  life  that  he  enjoyed  around  the 
fireside  of  his  mother,  with  a  beauty  and  pathos  seldom 
equalled.  Nothing  can  be  more  beautiful  than  these 
two  descriptions. 

A   FASHIONABLE    UP-TOWN    CHURCH. 

For  thirteen  years  Dr.  Adams  has  preached  to  what 
is  popularly  called  a  fashionable  up-town  church.  But 
it  will  be  hard  to  find  a  more  devoted  and  earnest  set 
of  workers  than  go  out  every  Sunday  from  this  sanctu- 
ary to  do  their  Master's  will.  They  touch  and  sustain 
every  form  of  Christian  work  among  all  classes  at  home 
and  abroad.  It  has  been  the  custom  to  set  off  mission 
churches,  and  leave  them  to  take  care  of  themselves. 
One  of  the  finest  chapels  in  this'  city,  and  one  of  the 
most  vigorous  missions,  has  been  built  and  sustained 
by  this  congregation.  The  church  worshipping  in  the 
mission  is  a  part  of  the  Madison  Avenue  Church,  con- 
trolled by  the  same  session.  Over  five  thousand  dollars 
a  year  are  expended  to  support  this  mission.  Teachers 
from  the  first  families  in  the  congregation  are  the  most 
devoted  instructors  in  the  school.  The  donations  made 
by  private  individuals  in  this  church  to  the  cause  of 
Christ  in  all  portions  of  the  world,  to  found  colleges, 
build  churches,  and  to  relieve  the  destitution  in  great 
cities,  are  gigantic.  No  form  of  Christian  labor  in  this 
city  can  be  found  in  which  the  members  of  this  church 
do  not  bear  an  active  and  leading  part.  Besides  the 
regular  support  of  worship,  Dr.  Adams's  congregation 
has  contributed  to  benevolent  causes  one  hundred 


510  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

thousand  dollars.  A  wealthy  up-town  church  this  is, 
but  rich  also  in  good  works.  It  is  a  reservoir  from 
which  proceed  continually  those  streams  that  make 
glad  the  waste  and  barren  places  of  the  land.  Dr. 
Adams  has  reached  the  period  of  sixty  years,  nearly 
forty  of  which  he  has  spent  in  the  active  duties  of  the 
Christian  ministry.  His  vigor  and  energy,  his  effi- 
ciency as  a  pastor,  seem  in  no  respect  to  be  enfeebled. 
As  an  accomplished  gentleman,  a  devoted  friend  and 
pastor,  a  persuasive  and  effective  preacher,  he  has  no 
rival.  The  great  central  idea  of  his  preaching  is  the 
Cross.  The  great  aim  of  the  pastor  is  to  exalt  the 
Savior  who  died  on  Calvary  for  man,  and  lead  sinners 
to  trust  in  the  merits  of  his  death. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  511 


LXIV. 

• 

JAMES  GORDON   BENNETT  AND  THE 
NEW  YORK  HERALD. 

MR.  BENNETT'S    EARLY    LIFE.  —  EMBARKS    FOR    AMERICA.  —  HIS  NEW  YORK 

CAREER.  —  CAREER    AS  A  JOURNALIST.  NEW    YORK    HERALD.  —  THE  NEW 

HERALD    BUILDING.  —  INSIDE     VIEW.  —  THE    COUNCIL.  —  MR.    BENNETT    AT 

HOME.  —  HIS      FAMILY.  — MR.      BENNETT      AND      THE      FRENCH      MISSION. 

PERSONAL    APPEARANCE. 

MR.  BENNETT'S  EARLY  LIFE. 

MR.  BENNETT  was  born  in  the  year  1800,  at  New  Mill, 
Keith,  in  Banffshire,  Scotland.  He  was  reared  under 
the  shadow  of  Gordon  Castle.  His  parents  were  Roman 
Catholics,  and  he  was  trained  an  their  religion.  Every 
Saturday  night  the  family  assembled  to  hear  the  Scrip- 
tures read,  and  to  engage  in  worship  according  to  the 
custom  so  touchingly  described  by  Burns.  An  uncle, 
for  whom  Mr.  Bennett  was  named,  was  a  Presbyterian 
clergyman.  James  was  kept  at  school  till  he  was  fifteen 
years  of  age.  He  then  entered  a  Roman  Catholic 
Seminary  at  Aberdeen,  his  parents  intending  him  for 
the  ministry.  On  the  banks  of  the  Dee  he  pursued  his 
studies  for  three  years.  He  then  threw  up  his  collegiate 
course,  and  abandoned  his  ecclesiastical  career.  He 
pursued  the  classics  with  great  enthusiasm.  Fifty 


512  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

years  after  he  recalled  his  studies  of  Virgil  on  the 
banks  of  the  Dee.  Burns  was  his  favorite  poet.  He 
read  with  zest  the  novels  of  Walter  Scott.  But  he  was 
charmed  with  the  Memoirs  of  Franklin,  written  by  him- 
self, and  he  felt  a  great  longing  to  visit  America,  the 
home  of  Franklin.  He  early  exhibited  marked  talent, 
with  great  shrewdness,  dashed  with  manliness.  He 
heard  Chalmers  often,  and  never  failed  to  acknowledge 
his  indebtedness  to  that  great  man  for  the  influence  he 
exerted  over  his  life.  Of  his  own  family  he  has  written, 
"  Bishops,  priests,  deacons,  robbers,  and  all  sorts  of 
persons,  were  in  my  family.  They  were  bright  in 
ideas,  and  saucy  enough  in  all  conscience." 

EMBARKS    FOR    AMERICA. 

It  was  a  sudden  impulse  that  induced  Mr.  Bennett  to 
embark  for  this  country.  He  met  a  companion  in  the 
street  one  day,  who  informed  him  that  he  was  going  to 
America.  Bennett  expressed  a  desire  to  see  the  place 
where  Franklin  was  born,  and  resolved  to  embark  with 
his  friend.  He  sailed  on  the  6th  of  April,  1819,  and 
landed  at  Halifax.  At  Portland  he  opened  a  school  as 
teacher,  but  it  was  not  of  choice  that  he  taught.  He 
soon  moved  on  towards  Boston.  He  was  charmed  with 
all  he  saw  in  the  city  and  vicinity.  He  hunted  up 
every  memorial  of  Franklin  that  could  be  found.  .  He 
examined  all  the  relics  of  the  Revolution,  and  visited 
the  places  made  memorable  in  our  struggle  with  Great 
Britain.  But  he  was  poor,  and  well  nigh  discouraged. 
He  walked  the  Common  without  money,  hungry,  and 
without  friends.  In  his  darkest  hour  he  found  a  New 
York  shilling,  and  from  that  hour  his  fortunes  began  to 


IN   NEW    YORK.  513 

mend.  He  obtained  a  position  with  Wells  and  Lilly, 
in  Boston,  as  proof-reader.  Here  he  displayed  his 
ability  as  a  writer,  both  in  poetry  and  prose. 

HIS    NEW    YORK    CAREER. 

Mr.  Bennett  came  to  New  York  in  1822.  He  im- 
mediately connected  himself  with  the  press,  for  which 
he  had  a  decided  taste.  He  was  not  dainty  in  his 
work.  He  took  anything  that  came  along.  He  was 
industrious,  sober,  frugal,  of  great  tact,  and  displayed 
marked  ability.  He  soon  obtained  a  position  on  the 
Charleston  Courier  as  translator  of  Spanish-American 
papers.  He  prepared  other  articles  for  the  Courier, 
many  of  which  were  in  verse.  His  style  was  sharp, 
racy,  and  energetic.  On  returning  to  New  York  he 
proposed  to  open  a  permanent  commercial  school  on 
Ann  Street,  near  Nassau,  and  issued  his  prospectus. 
The  plan  was  not  consummated.  But  he  gave  a  course 
of  lectures  on  political  economy  in  the  North  Dutch 
Church. 

CAREER    AS    A    JOURNALIST. 

Mr.  Bennett,  in  1825,  became  proprietor  of  the  New 
York  Courier  by  purchase.  It  was  a  Sunday  paper, 
but  was  not  a  success.  As  a  reporter  and  writer  he 
was  connected  with  several  journals.  In  1826  he 
became  associate  editor  of  the  National  Advocate,  a 
Democratic  paper.  The  next  year  the  Advocate  es- 
poused the  cause  of  John  Quincy  Adams,  while  Mr. 
Bennett  was  a  warm  partisan  of  Jackson.  Leaving  the 
Advocate,  Mr.  Bennett  became  associate  editor  of  the 
Inquirer,  conducted  by  M.  M.  Noah.  He  was  also  a 
member  of  Tammany  Society,  and  a  warm  partisan. 
33 


514  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

During  the  sessions  of  Congress,  Mr.  Bennett  was  at 
the  Capital,  writing  for  his  paper  ;  and  while  at  that 
post  a  fusion  was  effected  between  the  Courier  and 
Inquirer.  He  continued  in  his  position  as  associate 
editor  and  Washington  letter-writer  till  1832.  Mr. 
Bennett  sustained  General  Jackson  in  his  war  on  the 
United  States  Bank.  The  Courier  and  Inquirer,  under 
Mr.  Webb,  sustained  the  Bank.  This  difference  led 
Mr.  Bennet,  to  leave  the  concern.  He  wrote  much  for 
the  press,  and  his  peculiarly  cutting  and  slashing  style 
made  his  articles  very  effective.  He  studied  the  New 
York  press  very  closely.  He  felt  that  it  was  not  what 
the  age  demanded,  and  resolved  to  establish  a  paper 
that  should  express  his  idea  of  a  metropolitan  journal. 
He  had  no  capital,  no  rich  friends  to  back  him, —  noth- 
ing but  his  ability,  pluck,  and  indomitable  resolution. 

NEW    YORK    HERALD. 

On  the  6th  day  of  May,  1835,  the  New  York  Herald 
was  issued  from  No.  20  Wall  Street.  It  was  a  small 
penny  sheet.  Mr.  Bennett  was  editor,  reporter,  and 
correspondent.  He  collected  the  city  news,  and  wrote 
the  money  articles.  He  resolved  to  make  the  financial 
feature  of  his  paper  a  marked  one.  He  owed  nothing 
to  the  Stock  Board.  If  he  was  poor,  he  was  not  in 
debt.  He  did  not  dabble  in  stocks.  He  had  no  interest 
in  the  bulls  or  bears.  He- did  not  care  whether  stocks 
rose  or  fell.  He  could  slash  into  the  bankers  and  stock- 
jobbers as  he  pleased.  He  worked  hard.  He  rose 
early,  was  temperate  and  frugal,  and  seemed  to  live 
only  for  his  paper.  He  was  his  own  compositor  and 
errand  boy,  collected  his  own  news,  mailed  his  papers, 


IN  NEW   YORK.  515 

kept  his  accounts,  and  thus  laid  the  foundation  of  that 
great  success  that  has  made  his  name  as  familiar  on  the 
Thames  and  Danube  as  it  is  on  the  Hudson. 

THE   NEW    HERALD    BUILDING. 

Opposite  the  Astor,  on  the  site  of  the  9ld  Museum, 
stands  the  marble  palace  known  as  the  Herald  Build- 
ing. It  is  the  most  complete  newspaper  establishment 
in  the  world.  The  little,  dingy,  story-and-a-half  brick 
building,  standing  back  from  the  street  up  a  court,  and 
known  in  London  as  the  "  Times  Printing  Office,"  would 
not  be  used  for  a  third-rate  American  paper.  Before 
the  Herald  buildings  were  completed,  and  while  Mr. 
Bennett  was  making  a  savage  assault  on  the  National 
Banks,  he  was  waited  upon  by  the  president  of  one  of 
the  banks,  who  said  to  him,  "  Mr.  Bennett,  we  know 
that  you  are  at  great  expense  in  erecting  this  building, 
besides  carrying  on  your  immense  business.  If  you 
want  any  accommodation  you  can  have  it  at  our 
banks."  Mr.  Bennett  replied,  "  Before  I  purchased 
the  land,  or  began  to  build,  I  had  on  deposit  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  the  Chemical 
Bank.  There  is  not  a  dollar  due  on  the  Herald  build- 
ings that  I  cannot  pay.  I  would  pay  off  the  mortgage 
to-morrow  if  the  owner  would  allow  me  to.  When  the 
building  is  open  I  shall  not  owe  one  dollar  to  any 
man,  if  I  am  allowed  to  pay.  I  owe  nothing  that  I 
cannot  discharge  in  an  hour.  I  have  not  touched  one 
dollar  of  the  money  on  deposit  in  the  bank,  and  while 
that  remains  I  need  no  accommodation." 


516  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


INSIDE  VIEW. 

The  Herald  building  has  two  stories  below  the  side- 
walk, in  which  are  located  two  engines  of  thirty-five 
horse  power  each,  ready  for  action  at  a  moment's 
notice.  If  pne  fails,  the  other  will  strike  off  the  edi- 
tion. Three  huge  Hoe's  presses  throw  off  twenty- 
six  sheets  at  once.  The  presses  run  from  twelve  at 
night  till  seven  in  the  morning  to  print  the  daily  issue. 
The  edition  varies  from  three  to  five  hundred  thousand. 
The  engine  and  press  rooms  are  kept  in  perfect  order. 
The  proprietor  makes  constant  visits  to  every  part  of 
the  establishment,  and  allows  no  confusion  or  untidi- 
ness. The  first  story  is  the  Herald  office,  fitted  with 
the  neatness  and  system  of  a  bank.  Every  department 
has  a  responsible  head.  On  the  third  floor  the  paper 
is  edited.  It  has  a  force  of  twelve  editors,  thirty-five 
reporters,  and  five  hundred  men  in  all.  The  principal 
room  is  the  council  room.  It  faces  St.  Paul's  on  Broad- 
way. It  is  elegantly  furnished  with  black  walnut 
furniture.  The  chairs  are  carved,  and,  with  the  lounge, 
are  handsomely  covered  with  maroon  leather.  A  long 
table,  around  which  twelve  persons  can  sit,  runs  the 
length  of  the  room.  A  bronze  bust  of  Mr.  Bennett 
stands  on  a  pedestal  at  one  end.  The  walls  are  adorned 
with  portraits  of  young  Bennett,  Robert  Burns,  and 
favorite  characters.  Opening  from  this  is  a  handsome 
library,  filled  with  important  books  for  reference.  The 
editorial  rooms,  and  rooms  for  reporters  and  writers, 
occupy  the  entire  floor.  A  small  winding  stairway 
leads  from  the  entrance  on  Ann  Street  to  the  editorial 
rooms.  At  the  top  of  the  stairs  a  colored  gentleman 


IN  NEW  YORK.  517 

demands  your  business  and  your  card.  The  visitor  is 
ushered  into  a  small  reception-room,  occupied  almost 
entirely  by  an  immense  round  table,  files  of  papers,  and 
a  few  chairs.  If  persons  cannot  sit  they  can  stand. 
Visitors  are  seldom  allowed  in  the  editorial  rooms. 
The  parties  whom  they  call  to  see  meet  them  in  the 
reception-room.  The  composition  room  is  under  the 
French  roof,  large,  airy,  and  complete.  Every  issue  of 
the  Herald  is  electrotyped,  and  there  is  a  room  for  that 
purpose  in  the  building.  '  A  dummy  lowers  the  form 
down  to  the  press-room. 

THE    COUNCIL. 

The  Herald  is  edited.  Nearly  every  other  paper  in 
the  country  is  conducted  by  a  journalist;  that  is,  the 
editor  writes  his  own  leaders.  The  editor-in-chief  of 
the  Herald  seldom  writes  an  editorial.  At  twelve 
o'clock  each  day  the  editors  meet  in  the  council-room. 
If  Mr.  Bennett  is  in  the  city,  he  presides  ;  if  not,  young 
James  presides.  A  list  of  subjects  is  presented  by  Mr. 
Bennett,  and  these  are  discussed.  If  he  wants  any 
subject  written  upon,  he  gives  out  the  heads  in  his  dry, 
terse,  grotesque  way.  If  taken  down  just  as  he  states 
them,  they  would  be  very  effective,  though  comical. 
The  subjects  may  be  Phillips's  last  speech,  the  action 
of  Congress,  new  move  of  the  President,  the  situation 
abroad,  or  the  last  purchase  of  Mr.  Seward.  To  each 
editor  a  subject  is  given,  or  one  man  is  selected  to 
write  on  a  given  matter.  The  editor  decides  what 
shall  be  written,  dictates  the  points,  orders  such  an 
article  for  such  a  day,  and  to  be  written  in  such  a  man- 
ner. Everything  is  decided  by  the  editor  before  the 


518  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

council  breaks  up.  Then  subjects  are  called  for  from 
the  editors,  and  suggestions  solicited  ;  but  Mr.  Bennett 
decides  whether  they  shall  be  written  upon  or  not. 
In  business,  Mr.  Bennett  is  shrewd,  sharp,  and  prudent. 
If  he  pays  a  dollar  he  expects  to  get  a  dollar's  worth 
for  it.  He  often  seems  rough  and  impatient,  and  he 
is  prompt  and  decided. 

MR.    BENNETT   AT   HOME. 

In  his  house  he  is  genial,  liberal,  and  kind.  He  dis- 
penses an  elegant  hospitality.  No  English  nobleman, 
with  an  income  of  fifty  thousand  pounds,  lives  in  a  style 
more  generous  than  he  in  his  city  residence  on  Thirty- 
eighth  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue.  His  favorite  residence 
is  on  Fort  Washington.  Here  he  receives  his  friends 
in  a  principality  of  his  own.  He  has  a  great  deal  of 
company,  and  has  everything  to  make  guests  happy. 
He  leaves  each  one  to  enjoy  himself  as  he  pleases  —  a 
thing  very  rare  in  America.  On  entering  Mr.  Bennett's 
mansion  as  a  guest,  the  visitor  will  find  every  attention 
he  can  desire  and  every  elegance  that  can  make  him 
happy.  A  French  cook,  bowling  and  billiard  rooms, 
horses  and  carriages  in  the  stable,  a  steamboat  to  sail 
up  and  down  the  Hudson,  are  at  his  service.  At  dinner 
all  the  guests  are  expected  to  be  present  at  a  given 
hour.  At  the  other  meals  each  one  does  as  he  pleases. 
The  guest  comes  down  to  breakfast  at  any  hour,  and 
orders,  as  if  at  a  hotel. 

On  a  lounge  or  an  old  sofa  the  host  will  be  found, 
with  his  floor  strewed  with  books  and  papers.  He 
usually  goes  to  his  office  on  pleasant  days.  It  is  the 
duty  of  one  of  the  editors  to  mark  with  a  blue  or  red 


IN   NEW   YORK.  519 

pencil  all  paragraphs  in  the  papers,  personal,  financial, 
political,  acts  of  Congress,  &c.  Those  that  have  an 
interest  to  the  editor-in-chief  are  sent  to  Mr.  Bennett, 
and  his  eye  catches  at  a  glance  the  stirring  events  of 
the  day.  A  telegraph  wire  connects  Mr.  Bennett's  room 
at  Fort  Washington  with  his  son's  room  in  New  York. 
The  bell  ringing  three  times  indicates  that  Mr.  Bennett 
has  something  to  say.  The  father  and  son  talk  as  if  in 
an  adjoining  room.  "  Don't  put  in  that  article"  — 
"Publish  that  editorial  on  Congress"  —  "Come  home 
to  dinner,"  —  with  other  matters,  are  rattled  over  the 
wires.  Mr.  Bennett  is  a  great  student  of  history.  He 
studies  Cromwell  and  Bonaparte,  Biddle  and  Jackson, 
and  delights  in  the  history  and  scandal  of  the  times. 
His  philosophy  is  of  the  type  that  laughs  at  all  public 
things,  and  he  looks  at  public  acts  from  this  standpoint. 
But  no  man  is  more  genial  in  his  home.  His  two  great 
loves  are  his  son  and  his  paper.  He  makes  few  out- 
side calls,  and  will  not  attend  balls,  parties,  or  soirees, 
except  in  his  own  mansion.  He  is  a  fast  friend  ;  and 
when  he  takes  one  to  his  bosom  he  takes  him  with  all 
his  faults,  and  holds  fast  to  him  through  good  report 
and  through  evil.  Those  who  visit  him  find  all  sorts  of 
guests  —  French,  Germans,  Italians,  English,  with  men 
of  all  ranks.  All  who  have  any  claim  upon  Mr.  Ben- 
nett are  sure  of  a  welcome.  He  knows  how  to  dis- 
tinguish between  those  who  come  as  friends  and  those 
who  come  to  obtain  a  boon,  or  obtrude  business  upon 
him  in  his  retirement.  He  is  up  very  early  around  his 
grounds,  but  allows  his  guests  to  sleep  as  long  as  they 
please.  He  dislikes  to  read  of  the  death  of  men  who 
were  young  when  he  was  young.  It  fills  him  with 


520  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

melancholy,  that  lasts  a  long  time.  His  life  is  very 
regular,  his  constitution  is  of  iron,  and  he  is  guilty  of 
no  excess.  He  is  careful  of  exposure,  drinks  no 
stimulating  liquors,  does  not  use  tobacco,  and  excite- 
ments do  not  touch  him.  There  are  probably  twenty 
years  more  of  wear  in  him.  He  is  very  liberal  in  his 
way.  He  supports  several  widows,  by  a  regular  instal- 
ment paid  weekly,  whose  husbands  were  young  when 
Mr.  Bennett  was  young,  or  were  fellow-craftsmen  of  his 
when  he  was  struggling  for  a  foothold  in  this  city. 

HIS    FAMILY. 

Mrs.  Bennett  is  a  remarkable  lady,  possessing  great 
force  of  character.  Her  long  residence  abroad,  for  the 
purpose  of  educating  her  son,  made  her  familiar  with 
the  languages  of  Europe.  She  speaks,  with  the  fluency 
of  a  native,  French,  German,  Italian,  and  Spanish. 
She  has  presided  at  the  table  around  which  sat  the 
Spanish  and  Italian  admirals,  the  French  commander, 
and  the  German  ambassador.  With  each  of  these 
officials  she  maintained  a  conversation  in  his  own  lan- 
guage, without  hesitation  or  embarrassment,  as  if  she 
had  never  spoken  any  other.  The  Herald  is  indebted 
to  Mrs.  Bennett  for  the  establishment  of  the  foreign 
correspondence,  which  is  so  marked  a  feature  in  that 
print.  Her  letters  from  foreign  capitals  during  her 
residence  abroad  were  marked  by  taste,  tact,  and  talent. 
She  is  genial  and  accomplished  as  a  hostess,  and  gives 
a  charm  to  the  elegant  home  over  which  she  presides. 

Mr.  Bennett's  daughter,  Janette,  is  quite  young, 
cultivated  and  accomplished.  Like  her  mother,  she  is 
familiar  with  all  the  tongues  of  the  continent,  and  in 


IN  NEW   YORK.  521 

her  education  enjoys  all  the  advantages  that  wealth 
and  liberality  can  bestow. 

Young  Bennett,  named  after  his  father,  is  one  of  the 
best  educated  young  men  in  the  country.  He  has 
probably  a  better  practical  education  than  any  other. 
He  enjoyed  great  advantages,  as  he  spent  the  most  of 
his  younger  years  abroad,  and  was  trained  in  every 
accomplishment.  He  can  speak  fluently,  and  also 
write  French,  German,  Italian,  and  Scotch.  On  com- 
ing home,  his  father  resolved  to  fit  him  to  take  his 
place  in  carrying  on  the  Herald  establishment.  Young 
Bennett  set  type,  and  learned  all  the  mysteries  of  the 
craft  as  a  printer.  He  studied  engineering,  and  knows 
how  to  run  the  huge  machines  in  the  basement  of  the 
building.  He  can  work  at  the  press.  He  is  master  of 
the  art  of  electrotyping.  He  can  telegraph  with  skill 
and  accuracy.  And  the  toys  of  his  boyhood  were 
miniature  steam  engines,  small  telegraph  machines, 
with  juvenile  fonts  of  type  and  presses.  He  has  marked 
business  and  executive  ability,  and  devotes  more  hours 
to  his  office  than  any  young  man  in  the  city.  He  has 
the  entire  management  of  the  immense  business  of  the 
Herald.  He  presides  at  the  council  in  the  absence  of 
his  father,  and  conducts  the  affairs  of  the  office  in  the 
game  prompt,  decided  manner.  He  edits  the  Telegram, 
and  owns  the  Weekly.  He  never  leaves  his  office 
during  business  hours,  and  is  always  at  his  post  except 
a  few  weeks  in  summer,  when  he  follows  his  favorite 
pastime  of  yachting.  He  is  not  only  the  business 
manager  of  the  Herald,  and  has  to  attend  to  all  the 
calls,  but  he  is  the  active  editor,  and  manages  the 
finances.  He  goes  over  the  accounts  daily,  and  knows 


522  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

how  the  affairs  stand,  to  a  dollar,  before  he  leaves  the 
office  at  night.  He  visits  every  part  of  the  establish- 
ment during  the  day,  from  the  press-room  to  the  upper 
room  for  composition.  Young  Bennett  is  tall  and  slim. 
His  face  is  thin,  his  eye  pleasant,  his  nose  prominent, 
and  his  smile  attractive.  He  is  courteous  in  conversa- 
tion, and  there  is  a  repose  about  him  which  indicates 
ability  to  fill  the  position  he  occupies.  He  is  frank, 
manly,  and  generous.  He  has  many  traits  of  character 
that  are  ascribed  to  Prince  Alfred,  the  royal  sailor- 
son  of  Victoria.  A  warm  friendship  sprang  up  be- 
tween the  Duke  of  Edinburgh  and  young  Bennett, 
when  the  latter  was  in  London.  An  officer  high  in 
rank  in  the  British  navy  told  me  that  after  young 
Bennett  had  tendered  his  celebrated  yacht  to  the 
Prince,  Alfred  pleaded  earnestly  with  his  sovereign 
mother  to  allow  him  to  accept  the  generous  gift. 
Advised  by  her  ministers  that  it  would  not  do,  she 
positively  forbade  the  acceptance.  Of  course  Prince 
Alfred  would  have  acknowledged  the  gift  by  a  princely 
reciprocation.  But  the  history  of  the  Henrietta  was  so 
romantic,  the  offer  was  so  generous,  the  owner  had 
shown  so  much  pluck  in  crossing  the  Atlantic,  and  was, 
withal,  so  genial,  so  cultivated,  and  so  manly,  that  the 
heart  of  the  prince  was  completely  won.  And  this 
testimony  I  heard  confirmed  on  all  sides  during  my 
stay  in  London. 

MR.    BENNETT    AND    THE    FRENCH    MISSION. 

The  French  mission  was  offered  to  Mr.  Bennett  by 
the  President,  without  his  solicitation.  He  per- 
emptorily declined  it,  on  the  ground  that  he  would 


IN   NEW  YORK.  523 

not  be  bothered  with  the  duties  attached  to  the  posi- 
tion. "  If  I  wanted  to  go  to  Europe,"  said  Mr.  Ben- 
nett, "  I  would  take  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  go  at 
my  leisure."  Soon  after  he  declined  the  post,  Mr. 
Seward  visited  New  York.  A  mutual  friend  stepped 
over  to  the  Herald  office  and  announced  the  fact  to 
Mr.  Bennett,  and  asked  him  to  walk  over  and  see  the 
secretary.  "  I  have  no  business  with  Mr.  Seward/' 
replied  the  editor ;  "  if  he  wishes  to  see  me  he  can  call 
and  see  me."  Mr.  Bennett  regards  himself  as  a  repre- 
sentative man,  who  is  to  be  called  upon  by  all  who 
wish  to  see  him.  He  carries  this  rule  to  great  lengths. 

PERSONAL   APPEARANCE. 

Mr.  Bennett  is  tall,  and  marked  in  appearance.  Like 
Commodore  Vanderbilt,  nobody  passes  him  without 
turning  to  take  a  second  look.  His  form  is  genteel, 
and  he  is  as  erect  as  a  Mohawk  Indian.  He  dresses  in 
good  taste,  without  imitating  either  a  sloven  or  a  snob. 
His  hair  is  white  and  flowing,  giving  him  a  venerable 
look.  The  lines  of  his  face  are  hard,  and  indicate 
talent  and  determination.  In  an  omnibus  or  car  he 
would  command  general  attention.  He  could  easily 
be  mistaken  for  a  clergyman,  a  professor  in  a  college, 
or  for  one  of  the  solid  merchants  of  the  city.  He  can 
command  the  best  talent  in  the  world  for  his  paper. 
He  pays  liberally  for  fresh  news  of  which  he  has  the 
exclusive  use.  If  a  pilot  runs  a  hazard,  or  an  engineer 
puts  extra  speed  on  to  his  locomotive,  they  know  that 
they  will  be  well  paid  at  the  Herald  office,  for  its 
editor  does  not  higgle  about  the  price.  When  news 
of  the  loss  of  the  Collins  steamer  was  brought  to  the 


524  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

city,  late  on  a  Saturday  night,  the  messenger  came 
direct  to  the  Herald  office.  The  price  demanded 
was  paid,  but  the  messenger  was  feasted  and  confined 
in  the  building  until  the  city  was  flooded  with  extras 
Sunday  morning.  The  attaches  of  the  Herald  are 
found  in  every  part  of  the  civilized  world.  They 
take  their  way  where  heroes  feared  to  tread.  If  in 
anything  they  are  outdone,  outrun,  outwritten,  if 
earlier  or  fresher  news  is  allowed  to  appear  in  any 
other  journal,  a  sharp,  pungent  letter  is  penned,  either 
discharging  the  writer  or  ordering  him  home.  During 
the  war,  the  Herald  establishment  at  Washington  was 
a  curiosity.  The  place  was  as  busy  as  the  War  De- 
partment. Foaming  horses  came  in  from  all  quarters, 
ridden  by  bespattered  letter-writers.  Saddled  horses 
were  tied  in  front  of  the  door  like  the  headquarters 
of  a  general.  The  wires  were  controlled  to  convey 
the  latest  news  from  every  section  up  to  the  last  mo- 
ment of  the  paper  going  to  press.  Mr.  Bennett  is  a 
fine  illustration  of  what  our  country  can  do  for  a 
penniless  boy,  and  what  a  penniless  boy  can  do  for 
himself,  if  he  has  talent,  pluck,  character,  and  industry. 
In  the  conflict  of  interest,  and  in  the  heat  of  rivalry,  it 
is  difficult  to  estimate  a  man  rightly.  In  coming 
times  Mr.  Bennett  will  take  his  place  in  that  galaxy  of 
noble  names  who  have  achieved  their  own  position, 
been  architects  of  their  own  fortunes,  and  left  an 
enduring  mark  upon  the  age  in  which  they  lived. 


IN  NEW  YORK-  525 


LXV. 

DANIEL    DREW. 

EARLY  LIFE.  —  MR.  DREW  ON  THE  HUDSON.  —  MR.  DREW  AND  THE  HUDSON 
RIVER  RAILROAD.  —  MR.  DREW  AT  THE  STOCK  BOARD.  —  PERSONAL  AND 
DOMESTIC. 

THIS  remarkable  man  was  born  in  Carmel,  Putnam 
County,  New  York.  He  is  seventy  years  of  age.  He 
is  one  of  the  most  astute,  shrewd,  and  successful  capi- 
talists in  the  city.  In  person  he  is  tall  and  slender,  his 
hair  is  black,  his  complexion  very  dark.  He  is  tough 
and  agile,  and  would  pass  easily  for  forty-five.  He  is 
reputed  to  be  worth  twenty  millions.  For  several 
years  he  has  seldom  made  less  than  half  a  million  a 
year.  His  gifts  are  very  large.  He  seldom  gives  away 
less  than  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  a  year  in  pri- 
vate charities,  besides  the  large  gifts  which  mark  his 
munificence.  He  selects  his  own  charities,  and  vagrant 
solicitors  have  not  a  very  high  opinion  of  his  liberality. 
At  a  meeting  of  the  trustees  of  his  church,  not  long 
since,  the  question  came  up  about  finishing  a  mission 
chapel.  One  of  the  trustees  said, "  We  expect  a  gener- 
ous sum  from  brother  Drew."  Turning  to,  him  he  said, 
"  Brother  Drew,  I  put  it  to  your  conscience.  Don't 
you  see  your  way  clear  to  give  us  ten  thousand  dol- 


526  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

lars  ?  "  To  which  Mr.  Drew  replied,  "  No,  I  do  not ; " 
which  ended  the  matter.  Mr.  Drew  is  a  devout  mem- 
ber of  the  Methodist  Church.  He  attends  promptly 
and  punctually  to  all  the  duties  belonging  to  his  pro- 
fession. He  is  a  member  of  a  class,  and  visits  the  class- 
meetings  regularly.  He  is  present  at  the  devotional 
meetings  of  the  church,  and  speaks  and  prays  with 
great  acceptance.  As  a  Christian  man  he  is  humble, 
cheerful,  and  of  good  report.  He  is  very  reticent  on 
ordinary  occasions,  but  genial  and  intelligent  when  one 
wins  or  enjoys  his  confidence.  He  has  two  children,  a 
son  and  daughter.  The  son  is  well  provided  for  on  a 
farm.  The  daughter,  the  wife  of  a  Baptist  clergyman, 
is  an  heiress  in  her  own  right. 

EARLY   LIFE. 

He  passed  his  early  years  on  a  farm.  In  a  small 
school-house  he  obtained  the  rudiments  of  his  educa- 
tion. His  father  died  when  Daniel  was  fifteen  years 
of  age.  He  then  came  to  New  York  to  seek  his  fortune 
during  our  war  with  England.  From  a  North  River 
sloop  he  landed  on  the  spot  where  Washington  Market 
now  stands.  Resolved  to  do  something,  and  finding 
nothing  better  to  do,  he  hired  himself  out  as  a  substi- 
tute in  the  place  of  another,  and  became  a  soldier. 
Next  we  find  him  on  the  saddle,  driving  cattle  to  mar- 
ket from  his  rural  home.  It  took  two  weeks  then  to 
make  the  trip.  While  engaged  in  this  business  a  storm 
came  on.  He  found  shelter  in  a  gig  that  stood  under 
a  tree.  A  bolt  of  lightning  stunned  him  and  his  com- 
panion, killed  the  horse,  and  gave  them  a  narrow 
escape.  Careful,  persistent,  indomitable,  with  good 


IN   NEW  YORK.  527 

habits,  with  a  shrewdness  of  no  ordinary  kind,  with  a 
zeal  and  energy  glowing  like  a  volcano  beneath  a  quiet 
exterior,  he  early  laid  the  foundation  of  a  fortune. 

MR.    DREW   IN   NEW    YORK. 

In  1829  Mr.  Drew  removed  to  this  city.  He  estab- 
lished his  headquarters  at  Bull's  Head  in  the  Bowery, 
and  made  it  the  Drovers'  Exchange.  New  York  was 
too  limited  for  his  business  capacity.  He  stretched  the 
trade  into  Pennsylvania,  and  then  into  the  far  West. 
Droves  of  over  two  thousand  head  of  cattle  crossed  the 
Alleghanies  under  his  direction.  In  1834  he  began  his 
steamboat  enterprise.  Vanderbilt,  then  coming  on  to 
the  stage,  was  running  opposition  everywhere.  Some- 
thing had  to  give  way ;  and  Mr.  Drew,  watching  his 
opportunity,  bought  the  Cinderella  for  a  trifle. 

MR.    DREW    ON    THE   HUDSON. 

In  1838  the  Hudson  River  Line,  with  fine  boats,  and 
at  three  dollars  to  Albany,  monopolized  travel.  Mr. 
Drew  bought  the  Emerald,  and  ran  her  as  an  opposi- 
tion to  the  old  line,  at  one  dollar  fare.  A  compromise 
was  effected,  and  the  old  price  restored.  In  1840  Mr. 
Drew  formed  a  partnership  with  that  steamship  king, 
Isaac  Newton.  The  floating  palace,  Isaac  Newton,  be- 
came a  night  boat  through  the  suggestion  of  Mr.  Drew, 
and  the  People's  Line  became  a  success.  The  New 
World  followed,  and  the  history  of  the  line  is  well 
known. 


528  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


MR.   DREW   AND   THE  HUDSON   RIVER   RAILROAD. 

The  Hudson  Eiver  Kailroad  was  opened  in  1852. 
Mr.  Boorman,  the  president,  told  Mr.  Drew  that  on  the 
opening  of  the  road  to  Albany  his  steamboats  would 
go  under.  Mr.  Drew  carried  passengers  for  a  dollar. 
The  fare  on  the  road  was  three.  The  president  iirged 
Mr.  Drew  to  put  his  fare  up  to  two  dollars.  "  Our 
company  makes  money  enough  at  one,"  said  Mr.  Drew. 
"  You  can  regulate  the  fare  in  one  wray.  Buy  out  the 
People's  Line,  if,"  he  added,  "  you  have  money  enough." 
Vanderbilt  looked  witk  jealousy  on  Mr.  Drew's  advent 
in  the  steamboat  business.  "You  have  no  business  in 
this  trade,"  said  the  Commodore.  "  You  don't  under- 
stand it,  and  you  can't  succeed."  Since  1836  more 
than  fifty  opposition  boats  have  been  placed  on  the 
Hudson  River  against  the  People's  Line.  Not  one  of 
them  has  been  a  success ;  while  the  unequalled  river 
steamers  —  the  Dean  Richmond,  the  St.  John's,  and 
the  Drew  —  tell  the  story  of  Mr.  Drew's  success.  He 
chooses  his  assistants  with  great  sagacity ;  and  the 
captains,  pilots,  clerks,  and  subordinates  seldom  leave 
his  employ  till  they  are  removed  by  death.  Mr.  Drew 
insures  his  own  steamboats.  It  would  cost  him  half 
a  million  of  dollars  to  have  them  insured  in  any  reliable 
office.  His  losses  are  not  ten  per  cent,  on  that  sum. 
The  loss  of  the  Dean  Richmond  cost  Mr.  Drew  nearly 
three  hundred  thousand  dollars.  He  paid  every  shipper 
and  passenger  all  that  was  claimed.  There  was  not 
one  single  lawsuit,  nor  a  reference  even,  in  the  settle- 
ment of  the  cases. 


IN    NEW    YORK.  529 


ME.    DREW    AT    THE    STOCK    BOARD. 

In  1836  Mr.  Drew  appeared  in  Wall  Street.  For 
eleven  years  his  firm,  including  Robinson  and  Kelley, 
were  very  celebrated.  Mr.  Drew  was  a  rapid,  bold, 
and  successful  operator.  His  connection  with  the 
Erie  Railroad,  guaranteeing  the  paper  of  that  com- 
pany to  the  amount  of  a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars, 
showed  the  magnitude  of  his  transactions.  In  1857, 
as  treasurer  of  the  company,  his  own  paper,  indorsed 
by  Vanderbilt  to  the  amount  of  a  million  and  a  half  of 
dollars,  saved  the  Erie  from  bankruptcy.  During  that 
year,  amid  almost  universal  commercial  disaster,  Mr. 
Drew's  losses  were  immense ;  but  he  never  flinched, 
met  his  paper  promptly,  and  said  that  during  all  the 
crisis  he  had  not  lost  one  hour's  sleep.  In  connection 
with  Yanderbilt,  he  relieved  the  Harlem  road  from  its 
floating  debt  of  over  half  a  million  dollars,  and  aided  in 
placing  it  in  its  present  prosperous  condition. 

PERSONAL    AND    DOMESTIC. 

His  heart  is  in  Carmel,  where  lies  his  farm  of  a  thou- 
sand acres,  carried  on  with  the  same  judicious  skill 
which  marks  his  operations  as  a  capitalist.  His  farmers 
have  homes  of  their  own,  and  their  interest  is  identified 
with  that  of  Mr.  Drew.  Near  the  rural  graveyard, 
where  he  intends  to  be  interred  at  the  last  by  the  side 
of  his  ancestors,  Mr.  Drew,  in  connection  with  his 
daughter,  has  erected  one  of  the  most  beautiful  church- 
es in  the  land,  and  consecrated  it  to  the  promulga- 
tion of  the  faith  he  has  long  professed.  To  all  the  in- 
stitutions of  learning  in  his  church,  sacred  and  secular, 
34 


530  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

he  has  been  a  liberal  and  constant  benefactor.  The 
elegant  marble  structure  on  Fourth  Avenue,  known  as 
St.  Paul's  Church,  is  a  monument  to  his  liberality. 
Waiving  his  desire  that  a  theological  seminary,  bearing 
his  name,  should  be  erected  in  Carrnel,  the  place  of  his 
birth,  he  selected  the  beautiful  site  in  Madison  Square, 
central  to  the  whole  church,  for  the  establishment  of  a 
denominational  seminary.  The  manner  in  which  he 
made  the  great  donation  is  characteristic  of  the  man, 
and  we  have  detailed  it  elsewhere.  Considered  from 
any  stand-point,  Mr.  Drew  must  be  regarded  as  a  public 
benefactor.  His  industry,  energy,  and  talents  have 
been  honorably  employed.  In  donations  seldom 
equalled  he  has  laid  a  chaplet  on  the  altar  of  religion, 
a  testimonial  of  its  value  in  youth  and  its  support  in 
age. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  531 


LXYI. 

THE    NEW    YORK    BAR  — ITS    REPRESEN- 
TATIVE   MEN. 

V 

GENERAL  VIEW.  —  EMINENT     LAWYERS. —  CHARLES     o'CONOR. — WILLIAM    31. 

EVARTS.  JAMES    T.    BRADY.  —  DAVID    DUDLEY    FIELD.  A.   OAKEY    HALL. 

WILLIAM    J.    A.    FULLER. 

GENERAL    VIEW. 

THERE  is  so  little  homogeneousness  among  the  mem- 
bers of  the  New  York  bar,  that  to  attempt  the  briefest 
sketch  even  of  our  leading  lawyers  would  take  more 
space  than  we  can  give  to  the  subject.  We  will  there- 
fore only  say,  generally,  that  there  are  over  three  thou- 
sand lawyers  in  New  York  city  who  gain  a  livelihood 
by  their  professional  labors,  with  incomes  ranging  from 
five  hundred  to  fifty,  thousand  dollars  each.  Of  course 
the  number  who  receive  the  latter  amount  is  exceed- 
ingly limited,  by  far  the  larger  majority  of  them  justify- 
ing Daniel  Webster's  criticism,  that  "lawyers  work  hard, 
live  well,  and  die  poor."  The  average  income  of  a  first- 
class  New  York  city  lawyer,  in  good  practice,  ranges 
from  ten  to  fifteen  thousand  dollars  a  year.  Of  these 
three  thousand  lawyers,  perhaps  half  a  dozen  or  more 
have  a  national  reputation,  while  the  rest  are  wholly 


532  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

unknown  as  lawyers  outside  of  the  city  of  New  York. 
In  fact,  New  York  lawyers  do  not  know  each  other,  ex- 
cept as  they  are  brought  into  personal  or  professional 
contact.  Some  dozen  or  so  of  the  best  lawyers  are 
more  or  less  known  to  the  whole  profession  from  their 
prominence  at  the  bar,  or  the  accident  of  the  peculiar 
line  of  practice  which  they  pursue.  Of  the  rest,  per- 
haps a  hundred  are  known  to  each  other  personally, 
by  social  relations  or  otherwise  ;  another  hundred  by 
their  professional  or  business  intercourse;  and  the  rest 
are  as  unknown  to  each  other,  even  by  reputation,  as 
if  they  resided  at  the  antipodes.  There  is  not  that 
general  esprit  de  corps  in  the  profession  which  is  found 
in  other  places.  There  are  several  reasons  for  this 
apparently  anomalous  condition  of  things.  In  the  first 
place,  New  York  is  such  a  maelstrom  that  whatever 
lawyer  comes  here  —  no  matter  what  his  previous 
career  or  legal  reputation,  or  how  great  his  talent  — 
soon  has  his  individuality  swallowed  up  in  the  general 
vortex,  and  is  rarely  brought  to  the  surface  unless  by 
some  exceptional  circumstances.  Then,  again,  there 
are  so  many  different  courts  in  the  city  that  very  good 
lawyers  may  even  have  an  office  in  the  same  building, 
may  each  have  a  large  practice,  and  hardly  ever  meet, 
from  the  fact  that  one  lawyer  brings  his  cases  in  the 
Supreme  Court,  another  in  the  Superior  Court,  another 
in  the  Common  Pleas,  and  so  on,  as  the  caprice  of  the 
lawyer  or  other  reason  may  dictate.  Moreover,  many 
of  our  best  lawyers  content  themselves  with  chamber 
practice,  giving  counsel,  conveyancing,  etc.,  and  never 
appear  in  court.  In  fact  so  much  time  is  lost  by  waiting 
in  court-rooms,  that  lawyers  absolutely  avoid  the  trial 


IN   NEW   YORK.  533 

of  cases  as  much  as  possible ;  and  thousands  of  eases 
are  settled  annually  from  this  very  cause,  that  might 
otherwise  be  litigated  to  the  bitter  end.  It  is  a  sur- 
prising fact  that  very  few  lawyers  here  practise  in  the 
Federal  Courts.  The  Circuit  Court  of  the  United 
States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York  is  almost 
a  close  corporation,  there  not  being  more  than  a  dozen 
lawyers  who  practise  there  regularly,  and  it  is  a  terra 
incognita  to  the  New  York  bar  generally.  We  do  not 
believe  there  is  any  lawyer  here  who  can  make  out  a 
complete  bill  of  costs  in  this  court  without  the  assist- 
ance of  the  clerk.  A  similar  condition  of  things  exists 
with  regard  to  the  United  States  District  Court,  except 
that  the  number  of  regular  practitioners  may  be  in- 
creased a  score  or  two.  In  this  court,  where  is  con- 
ducted the  admiralty  and  maritime  business  of  this 
great  commercial  city,  it  is  a  singular  fact  that  no  law- 
yer has  had  any  nautical  experience,  —  there  is  no 
man  whose  early  training  qualifies  him  to  try  a  nauti- 
cal case  with  the  best  results.  We  know  of  but  one 
man  of  the  New  York  Bar  (Mr.  W.  J.  A.  Fuller,  referred 
to  below  as  the  Rubber  Patent  Lawyer)  who  has  spent 
years  of  his  life  as  a  sailor ;  and  he  rarely  tries  this 
class  of  cases,  for  which  his  training  and  experience, 
eminently  qualify  him  ;  but  when  he  does,  he  crushes 
his  opponent  like  an  egg-shell.  We  mention  this  cir- 
cumstance merely  to  show  that  the  practice  of  the  law 
in  this  city  is  full  of  specialities,  and  that  each  lawyer 
adapts  himself,  not  perhaps  to  that  for  which  he  is 
peculiarly  qualified,  but  selects  that  branch  of  the  pro- 
fession which  yields  him  trie  largest  income. 


534  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

EMINENT   LAWYERS. 

We  will  have  to  content  ourselves  with  a  pen- 
and-ink  sketch  of  a  few  only  of  its  representative 
men. 

CHARLES    O'CONOR. 

First  and  foremost  in  the  profession  —  a  rank  con- 
ceded to  him  by  the  universal  suffrage  of  the  bar  and 
of  the  community  —  stands  Charles  O'Conor,  who  wears 
his  laurels  with  a  grace  and  gentleness  that  command 
unbounded  respect  and  confidence.  The  Forrest  di- 
vorce trial  first  brought  Mr.  O'Conor  into  national 
prominence,  and  made  known  to  the  whole  country, 
what  was  then  only  known  to  the  bench  and  the  bar 
of  this  city,  that  he  who  could  in  such  a  forensic  grapple 
utterly  overthrow  such  an  adversary  as  John  Van 
Buren,  must  be  a  lawyer  of  the  very  highest  talents 
and  attainments.  Mr.  O'Conor's  peculiar  characteris- 
tic is  great  common  sense,  which  enables  him  to  apply 
his  prodigious  legal  learning  in  so  clear  a  manner  as  to 
make  his  points  equally  apparent  to  the  unlettered 
juryman  and  to  the  profound  jurist.  He  has  no  clap- 
trap, no  straining  for  dramatic  effects.  His  quiet, 
almost  cold  manner,  his  inexorable  logic,  his  piercing, 
and  at  times  almost  stridulous  voice,  his  sharp,  glit- 
tering eye,  that  holds  a  witness  or  an  opponent  with  a 
charm  equal  to  the  fascination  of  Coleridge's  Ancient 
Mariner,  all  bespeak  a  man  of  no  common  mould'.  His 
industry  and  application  are  wonderful,  almost  beyond 
belief.  He  is  always  calm  and  collected,  never  losing 
his  temper  or  thrown  from  his  balance.  He  relies  on 
the  strong  points  of  his  case,  and  never  lumbers  it  with 


IN   NEW   YORK.  535 

useless  rubbish  or  foreign  or  immaterial  issues.  He 
holds  the  ear  of  corn  up  before  you.  strips  off  the  husks, 
always  from  the  top,  and  never  beginning  at  the  bot- 
tom, until  he  reveals  the  core,  and  this  he  holds  before 
the  judge  and  jury  with  a  plain,  straightforward  direct- 
ness that  makes  his  hearer  oblivious  of  the  husks,  re- 
membering only  the  ear  —  the  strong  point  upon  which 
he  relies  to  carry  his  case.  He  has  been  successful  be- 
yond measure,  although  he  has  always  been  careless 
and  capricious  in  the  matter  of  fees,  being  governed  by 
circumstances  of  the  case  and  of  the  party,  and  by  his 
own  whims,  and  not  guided  by  any  fixed  rule.  For 
many  years  past  he  could  make  his  professional  income 
just  what  he  pleased,  increasing  it  to  a  fabulous  amount 
had  he  been  so  disposed.  He  has  confined  himself  very 
closely  to  his  profession,  rarely  mingling  in  public  ques- 
tions, political  controversies,  or  post-prandial  speeches ; 
and  yet,  in  private  and  social  life  he  is  one  of  the  most 
genial  men  imaginable.  Pie  is  said  to  have  replied  to 
an  admirerj  who  complimented  him  on  his  professional 
success  as  compared  with  that  of  John  Van  Buren, 
u  Perhaps  had  he  devoted  himself  as  assiduously  to  his 
profession  as  I  have  done  for  the  past  twenty-five  years, 
and  not  given  so  much  of  his  time  to  public  life  and 
private  entertainment,  the  result  would  have  been  far 
different." 

Mr.  O'Conor  is  a  Democrat  in  politics,  a  Catholic  in 
religion,  but  quiet  and  unobtrusive  in  both.  He  has 
argued  many  cases  involving  the  gravest  public  ques- 
tions, and  it  is  said  that  in  preparing  for  the  defence  of 
Jefferson  Davis,  he  has  subordinated  all  the  learning 
and  statesmanship  extant  that  bears  upon  the  case,  and 


536  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

that  he  designed  to  make  this  the  crowning  professional 
effort  of  his  life. 

WILLIAM    M.    EVARTS. 

In  this  connection  we  will  introduce  William  M. 
Evarts,  perhaps  the  only  man  at  the  New  York  bar 
who  can  be  justly  called  Mr.  O'Conor's  peer.  He,  too, 
has  argued  many  most  important  public  cases,  and  has 
been  fittingly  selected  by  the  government  to  prosecute 
Jefferson  Davis.  Each  of  these  lawyers  feels  and 
knows  that  in  the  other  he  has  an  opponent  who  will 
call  forth  all  his  skill  and  power,  and  doubtless  ex- 
periences, in  anticipation  of  this  conflict,  — 

"  That  stern  joy  which  warriors  feel 
In  foemen  worthy  of  their  steel." 

Should  this  trial  ever  take  place,  it  will  have  something 
more  than  the  historic  interest  involved  in  its  momen- 
tous issues,  in  the  sharp  and  fierce  play  of  steel  between 
these  opposing  champions.  It  will  be  artistic  cutting 
and  thrusting  with  Milan  blades,  no  coarse  work  with 
butchers'  cleavers.  Mr.  Evarts  is  a  great  Common  Law 
lawyer.  Gifted  with  extraordinary  natural  talent,  he 
has  labored  with  untiring  zeal  and  industry,  until  he 
has  accumulated  an  amount  of  legal  learning,  even  to 
attempt  the  acquisition  of  which  would  appall  a  man 
of  less  ability  and  perseverance.  Born  and  reared  in 
New  England,  he  early  acquired  habits  of  industry  and 
self-reliance  that  have  made  him  not  only  a  great 
lawyer  but  a  great  man.  He  is  one  of  the  clearest  and 
deepest  thinkers  on  public  affairs  in  the  country,  and 
has  one  of  the  most  original  minds.  In  the  trying 
times  of  our  great  civil  conflict;  when  new  Alabamas 


IN  NEW  YORK.  537 

were  launched  and  fitting  out  in  England  to  destroy 
our  commerce,  tliis  man,  of  slender  frame  but  giant 
mind,  was  sent  by  the  government  to  England  to  pre- 
vent this  flagitious  national  wrong.  By  the  sheer  force 
of  his  superior  intellect  and  knowledge  of  international 
law  he  accomplished  more  than  whole  navies  —  he 
stopped  this  outrage.  After  reasoning  the  matter  with 
the  best  publicists  of  the  English  cabinet,  he  had  such 
assurances  from  them  that  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Seward,  in 
effect,  that  he  need  have  no  further  apprehension,  for 
these  piratical  craft  would  not  be  permitted  to  go  to 
sea  —  and  they  did  not  sail.  This  was  in  the  darkest 
hours  of  the  strife,  when,  perhaps,  another  Alabama  or 
two  would  have  been  "  the  last  pound  that  broke  the 
camel's  back."  For  this  signal  service  he  deserves  the 
lasting  gratitude  of  the  nation.  Mr.  Evarts  presents  the 
singular  anomaly  of  a  man  eminently  fitted  by  nature, 
training,  and  habits  to  hold  a  place  in  the  councils  of  the 
nation,  and  yet  who  finds  the  post  of  honor  in  private 
life.  His  voice  would  be  potential  in  the  Senate,  and 
yet  the  great  State  of  New  York  is  often,  practically, 
represented  there  by  empty  chairs.  In  England  the 
state  would  be  sure  to  have  the  services  of  such  a  man 
in  some  public  position  at  any  cost.  Mr.  Evarts  has  a 
clear,  ringing  voice,  of  great  penetration  and  power,  a 
pleasing  delivery,  that  often  rises  to  earnestness  and 
eloquence,  and  a  comprehensive  grasp  of  the  question 
or  case  under  consideration  that  generally  carries  con- 
viction to  the  reason  and  judgment  of  the  auditor. 
His  manner  is  somewhat  peculiar  at  times.  He  has  a 
large  blue  eye,  which  often  seems  to  look,  not  at  out- 
ward objects,  but  which  is  introspective,  as  if  the 


538  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

speaker  were  seeking  the  thought  in  the  depths  of  his 
own  mind,  and  was  oblivious  of  everything  around  him. 
As  a  pleasant  orator,  an  after-dinner  speaker,  full  of 
playful  wit,  and  quiet,  dry  humor,  he  stands  almost  with- 
out a  rival,  in  or  out  of  the  profession.  Mr.  Evarts  has, 
perhaps,  the  best  clientage  in  New  York,  and  represents 
the  "  heavy  respectability"  of  the  best  classes  and  highest 
toned  merchants,  bankers,  and  insurance  offices  in  and 
about  Wall  and  South  Streets.  He  is  among  the  safest 
of  counsellors  and  the  best  of  lawyers. 

JAMES    T.    BRADY. 

James  T.  Brady  is  the  only  lawyer  of  the  New  York 
bar  who  has  positive  genius.  O'Conor,  Evarts,  and 
others  have  the  highest  order  of  talent,  but  they  stop 
just  short  of  genius.  High  as  Mr.  Brady  stands  in  the 
profession  as  an  advocate,  a  counsellor,  and  a  lawyer  of 
the  largest  and  widest  capacity  in  every  department, 
he  illustrates  eminently  the  fact  that  heavenly  genius 
must  be  wedded  to  earth-born  industry  to  insure  per- 
fect and  complete  success  in  any  walk  in  life.  Not 
that  Mr.  Brady  is  without  great  legal  attainments.  On 
the  contrary  few  men  surpass  him  even  in  this  direction. 
But  his  lack  of  steady  application  is  well  known,  and 
its  effects  often  injuriously  felt  by  himself,  at  least, 
though  not  perhaps  perceived  by  others.  Had  he  the 
industry,  the  close  and  constant  study  of  Mr.  O'Conor, 
for  example,  he  would  be  a  very  Titan.  His  versatility 
of  talent  is  most  remarkable.  Whether  arguing  an 
abstruse  and  intricate  question  of  law  to  a  court,  or 
indulging  in  the  pleasing  flights  of  fancy,  or  thrilling 
bursts  of  eloquence  to  a  jury,  he  is  equally  at  home, 


IN   NEW   YORK.  539 

equally  ready,  facile,  forcible,  and  convincing.  He  is  a 
most  felicitous  speaker  at  the  bar,  in  the  forum,  on  the 
platform  as  a  lecturer,  on  the  stump  in  a  political  can- 
vass, at  a  public  dinner,  literary  festival,  or  private 
entertainment,  and  at  a  social  gathering.  In  private 
life  he  is  a  man  "  of  infinite  jest,  of  most  excellent 
fancy."  He  has  an  ardent  temperament,  a  highly  po- 
etic nature,  and  the  most  exquisite  imagination.  With 
all  his  genius  he  is  as  simple,  unostentatious,  as  a  child, 
and  his  affability  to  the  younger  members  of  the  pro- 
fession is  worthy  of  imitation.  He  is  always  ready  to 
grapple  with  the  most  difficult  case,  and  never  loses  his 
self-command  or  self-possession,  either  at  the  bar  or 
elsewhere.  No  draft  can  be  made  on  him  for  services 
of  any  kind  which  is  not  readily  honored  at  sight.  He 
is  by  far  the  finest  rhetorician  at  the  bar,  with  a  wealth 
of  diction,  a  gorgeousness  of  imagery,  a  felicity  of 
classic  allusion,  and  a  richness  of  ornate,  apt,  and 
refined  illustration,  that  are  without  parallel.  He  tries 
many  very  desperate  cases,  so  desperate  in  fact  that  no 
other  lawyer  will  touch  them,  and  often  wins  them  by 
his  fertility  of  resource,  and  the  assiduous  devotion  to 
the  interests  of  his  clients.  Mr.  Brady  may  be  properly 
styled  the  most  genial  member  of  the  bar ;  always 
courteous,  polite,  polished,  considerate,  especially  to 
his  inferiors,  he  is  the  Chevalier  Bayard  of  the  profes- 
sion —  always  sans  peur  et  sans  reproche. 

DAVID    DUDLEY    FIELD. 

David  Dudley  Field  will  always  have  a  niche  in  the 
temple  of  legal  fame,  as  the  author  of  the  New 
York  Code  of  Procedure,  and  is  eminently  worthy  of 


540  SUNSHINE   AND    SHADOW 

honorable  mention  as  a  lawyer  of  sterling  common 
sense  and  untiring  energy,  who  holds  his  position  by 
the  sheer  force  of  an  unbending  will.  The  excellent 
suggestions  of  that  quaint  writer  on  the  crudities  and 
absurdities  of  the  law,  good  old  Jeremy  Bentham,  were 
first  put  into  legal  practice  by  Mr.  Field  when  he  made 
the  New  York  Code,  which  mowed  down,  as  with  a 
McCormick's  reaper,  the  rank  and  luxuriant  harvest  of 
technical  fictions  and  incongruous  absurdities  that  for 
centuries  had  overgrown  and  covered  up  the  simple 
rules  of  reason  and  justice  that  it  is  the  object  of  all- 
laws  to  subserve  and  enforce.  Mr.  Field,  for  this,  will 
be  remembered,  when  the  ablest  lawyers  of  his  time 
will  be  forgotten  in  the  dust  of  ages ;  albeit,  some  of 
them  even  now  affect  to  regard  his  system  of  common- 
sense  practice  as  a  bold  innovation,  which  lays  an 
iconoclastic  hand  upon  the  idol  of  their  false  prejudices 
and  traditional  legal  education.  Mr.  Field,  in  his  code, 
never  forgets  that  the  law  addresses  itself  to  the  plain 
sense  of  plain  men,  and  he  proceeds  by  no  indirection 
to  his  point.  That  is  a  striking  anecdote  related  of  the 
Russian  Emperor,  who  directed  his  engineers  to  lay  out 
a  railroad  between  St.  Petersburg  and  Moscow.  When 
the  plans  were  submitted  to  the  Czar's  inspection,  he 
asked  the  meaning  of  the  crooked  angles  and  zigzag 
lines  that  marked  the  devious  route.  "  To  accom- 
modate the  intervening  tow^ns  and  villages,"  was  the 
reply.  The  Emperor  drew  his  pen  across  the  map, 
turned  it  upon  its  face,  and  marked  upon  the  back  two 
dots  representing  the  two  cities.  He  then  made  a 
straight  line  between  the  points,  and  said,  "  Build  me 
that  road." 


IN  NEW   YORK.  541 

The  illustration  is  apt  for  other  matters  than  the 
survey  of  railroads,  and  especially  does  it  apply  to  Mr. 
Field's  code.  He  treats  the  whole  subject  of  the  law 
in  a  common-sense  manner,  utterly  ignoring  those  end- 
less involutions,  redundancies  of  expression,  and  the 
profuseness  of  verbiage,  that  usually  bury  the  sense  in 
such  a  fog  of  words  that  if  a  fog-bell  were  rung  in  the 
middle  of  one  of  these  legal  sentences  it  could  not  be 
heard  at  either  end  of  the  paragraph. 

Mr.  Field  is  emphatically  an  earnest  man  ;  and,  like 
all  such  men,  who  spend  no  time  in  trifles,  has  neither 
courted  nor  found  popularity.  His  manner  is  cold, 
almost  forbidding,  very  like  that  of  an  English  barrister; 
and  yet  the  few  who  break  through  this  outer  crust, 
which  exerts  a  repelling  influence  upon  the  many,  find 
him  pleasant  and  companionable  in  private  life.  He 
has  never  succeeded  in  obtaining  public  station,  al- 
though eminently  fitted  for  it  by  great  executive 
ability.  Were  he  personally  more  popular  among  his 
associates,  and  professional  and  political  confreres,  he 
would  long  ago  have  held  high  rank  in  public  affairs. 

Mr.  Field  has  a  fine  presence,  a  tall,  commanding 
figure,  a  thoroughly  English  manner,  and  a  clear  voice, 
with  unusual  distinctness  of  enunciation.  He  has  not 
the  fervor  of  the  impassioned  orator,  but  his  arguments 
are  always  clear,  occasionally  eloquent,  and  generally 
convincing.  He  pays  the  closest  attention  to  the  in- 
terests of  his  clients,  and  always  prepares  his  cases 
with  industrious  zeal.  He  does  not  allow  his  attention, 
during  the  progress  of  a  trial,  to  flag  or  waver  for  an 
instant,  but  is  always  watchful  and  devoted  to  the 
matter  before  him.  Like  all  successful  lawyers,  he  is 


542  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

a  great  worker,  and  pays  the  inevitable  price  of  sleep- 
less nights  and  laborious  days,  illustrating  the  poet's 
lines,  — 

"  He  who  would  climb  Fame's  dizzy  steep 
Must  watch  and  toil  while  others  sleep." 

Take  him  for  all  in  all,  he  is  a  man  whose  place  at 
the  bar  will  not  readily  be  filled  when  he  shall  have 
passed  away. 

A.    OAKEY   HALL. 

A.  Oakey  Hall,  who  has  been  four  times  elected  dis- 
trict attorney  of  New  York  city,  is  another  representa- 
tive man,  who  largely  fills  the  public  eye  as  a  successful 
lawyer.  He  has  many  qualities  peculiar  to  himself. 
He  was  famous  as  an  editor  and  litterateur  before  he  was 
celebrated  as  a  lawyer ;  and  even  now,  in  addition  to 
his  onerous  and  multifarious  official  duties,  he  finds 
time  to  edit  a  city  paper  (the  New  York  Leader),  and 
occasionally  to  write  a  story,  a  book,  a  play,  and  even 
to  woo  the  muses  with  success.  "  Hans  Yorkel,"  his 
newspaper  nom  de  plume  in  by-gone  years  as  the  New 
York  correspondent  of  the  New  Orleans  Commercial 
Bulletin,  made  a  reputation  that  almost  any  writer 
might  envy.  His  sparkling,  brilliant,  piquant  letters, 
equally  light  and  profound,  ranging  at  will  "  from  grave 
to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe,"  were,  by  their  own 
buoyancy,  borne  far  and  wide  on  the  current  of  the 
newspaper  press. 

Mr.  Hall  is  the  only  man  at  the  New  York  bar  who 
makes  politics  a  business,  and  succeeds  at  it.  He  has 
been  a  Whig,  a  Kepublican,  and  a  Democrat ;  and,  in 
spite  of  this  tergiversation  in  politics,  he  has  always 


IN   NEW   YORK.  543 

wielded  a  large  influence  with  the  party  to  which  he 
was  attached,  and  retained  its  confidence  while  he 
acted  with  it.  He  has  been  the  counsel  to  the  Metro- 
politan Police  Department  and  to  the  sheriff'  of  New 
York,  through  all  administrations,  even  when  his  politi- 
cal opponents  were  in  power  and  held  the  offices. 
This  speaks  as  highly  for  his  ability  as  a  lawyer  as  for 
his  adroitness  as  a  politician.  He  is  always  retained, 
and  bears  the  burden  of  the  fight  in  all  important  cases 
growing  out  of  the  quarrels  of  leading  actors  and  au- 
thors, with  whom  he  is  on  terms  of  the  closest  intimacy, 
and  by  whom  he  is  regarded  with  the  greatest  favor 
and  admiration. 

How,  in  the  midst  of  all  these  labors,  Mr.  Hall  finds 
time  to  discharge  the  duties  of  district  attorney  is  a 
marvel  even  to  his  best  friends,  who  know  his  ability 
and  industry.  True,  he  has  able  and  hardworking 
partners  (Mr.  Vanderpoel  is,  without  exception,  the 
hardest  working  lawyer  in  New  York) ;  but  even  with 
their  aid,  the  amount  of  labor  performed  by  him  is 
prodigious.  One  secret  of  his  successful  accomplish- 
ment of  so  much  work  is,  that  he  drives  his  work,  and 
does  not  permit  his  work  to  drive  him.  Mr.  Hall  is  a 
facile  and  forcible  writer,  a  pleasing  and  impressive 
speaker,  and  a  thorough  lawyer.  He  is  a  very  popular 
public  orator,  and  keeps  the  audience  in  a  roar  by  his 
clever  punning  and  repartee,  while  he  holds  them  by 
the  force  and  'logic  of  his  argument.  In  criminal 
practice  he  has  few  if  any  rivals  ;  certainly  no  superior. 
His  impassioned  eloquence  is  very  effective  with  a 
jury;  and  his  clear,  felicitous,  oftentimes  poetic  and 
always  scholarly  arguments,  ever  command  the  interest 


544  SUNSHINE   AND    SHADOW 

of  auditors,  and  the  respect  and  attention  of  the  court. 
His  "  points "  are  brief,  and  his  "  briefs  "  are  pointed. 
He  is  one  of  the  leading  managers  in  municipal,  state, 
and  national  politics,  and  makes  and  carries  more 
"  points "  than  any  other  man.  In  private  life  Mr. 
Hall  is  a  perfect  gentleman,  always  courteous,  refined, 
entertaining,  and  instructive,  and  considerate  for  the 
feelings  of  others,  although  when  closely  pressed  by  an 
opponent  he  can  strike  back  as  hard  as  any  one.  Mr. 
Hall  is  a  great  humorist,  and  says  more  clever  things 
and  makes  better  jokes  than  any  member  of  the  bar. 
He  never  spoils  a  joke  for  the  sake  of  a  friend,  and 
does  not  even  spare  himself  when  he  can  say  a  good 
thing  to  "  point  a  moral  or  adorn  a  tale."  A  notable 
example  of  his  making  a  joke  at  his  own  expense  was 
when  some  one  congratulated  him  on  the  very  heavy 
majority  by  which  he  was  reflected  district  attorney, 
and  he  replied  that  he  "  had  more  tried  friends  than 
any  man  in  New  York."  Mr.  Hall  is  only  forty-one 
years  of  age,  and  claims  that  he  has  only  begun  life, 
and  laughs  at  the  kindly-intentioned  idea  that  as  yet 
he  has  accomplished  anything  worthy  of  private  note 
or  public  mention. 

WILLIAM    J.    A.    FULLER. 

William  J.  A.  Fuller,  best  known  among  the  pro- 
fession as  the  Rubber  Patent  Lawyer,  is  another  repre- 
sentative man,  of  whom  there  are  but  -few  at  the  New 
York  bar.  His  success,  which  has  been  great,  is  owing 
measurably  to  his  business  ability,  practical  common 
sense,  close  attention  to  business,  and  wonderful  knowl- 
edge of  human  nature.  He  has  an  iron  will,  indomi- 


IN   NEW   YORK.  545 

table  energy,  extraordinary  positiveness  of  character, 
intense  application,  and  none  of  the  vis  inertice  so  com- 
mon to  lawyers.  He  is  very  self-reliant.  Ita  lex  scripta 
est  is  not  the  "  be  all  and  end  all "  of  his  investigations ; 
and  his  original  habits  of  thought  have  grafted  many 
new  points  of  practice,  and  made  many  new  precedents, 
by  applying  old  principles  to  new  cases.  He  believes 
that  law,  like  everything  else,  is  progressive,  and  is 
not  disturbed  by  the  mere  dicta  of  judges.  He  is 
unusually  fertile  in  expedients,  and  his  rare  judgment 
and  knowledge  of  men  enable  him  to  settle  most  cases 
that  are  brought  to  him  without  protracted  litigation ; 
and  yet  he  is  as  tenacious  as  a  bull-dog.  He  is  one  of 
the  most  amiable  or  most  inflexible  of  lawyers,  as  the 
circumstances  of  the  case  require,  treating  his  oppo- 
nents just  as  they  treat  him.  While  he  is  always 
courteous  to* his  brethren  of  the  profession,  he  never 
grants  them  any  favors  that  will,  in  the  least  degree, 
prejudice  the  interests  of  his  clients — in  which  practice 
he  stands  almost  alone. 

Like  Mr.  Hall,  he  achieved  literary  distinction  as  an 
editor  and  magazine  writer  before  he  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  the  law.  His  life  has  been  checkered  and 
eventful  —  more  so  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  ordinary 
men.  He  has  travelled  in  every  quarter  of  the  world, 
and  is  familiar  with*  most  civilized  and  savage  peoples. 
He  was,  in  early  life,  a  sailor  for  many  years,  in  which 
capacity  he  circumnavigated  the  globe,  acquiring 
thereby  an  experience  that  makes  him  the  superior  of 
every  lawyer  at  the  bar  in  the  trial  of  nautical  cases. 
Mr.  Fuller  first  brought  himself  into  prominence  as 
counsel  for  Horace  H.  Day,  in  the  great  Goodyear 
35 


546  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

rubber  controversy ;  and  has,  for  many  years,  devoted 
his  talents  and  energies,  and  most  of  his  time,  to  sus- 
taining the  Goodyear  rubber  patents  and  prosecuting 
infringers.  He  brings  to  bear  upon  this  business 
not  only  his  legal  ability,  but  his  rare  talent  for 
managing  men,  and  has  been  uniformly  and  com- 
pletely successful  in  crushing  out  piracies  upon  these 
patents,  in  whatever  direction  he  has  moved  against 
them. 

Perhaps  in  nothing  has  Mr.  Fuller  shown  his  knowl- 
edge of  men  better  than  in  his  selection  for  a  partner 
of  Hon.  Leon  Abbett,  one  of  the  very  best  general 
lawyers  in  the  city,  who  was  for  some  years  the  Demo- 
cratic leader  of  the  New  Jersey  legislature,  and  is 
now  the  Thurlow  Weed  of  that  Camden-and-Amboy-ed 
state. 

Mr.  Fuller  is  a  fluent,  forcible  writer,  and  a  most 
earnest  and  effective  public  speaker.  He  made,  a 
great  mark  in  the  Fremont  campaign,  on  the  stump 
and  with  his  pen  ;  but  his  absorbing  professional 
labors  have  driven  him  wholly  from  the  field  of  poli- 
tics, although  at  the  breaking  out  of  the  rebellion  he 
did  gallant  work  for  the  Union  cause. 

His  leading  qualities  are  indomitable  energy,  an  im- 
passioned earnestness  that  carries  conviction  with  it, 
great  industry,  an  iron  will  which  bends  everything  and 
everybody  to  it,  integrity,  and  perfectly  square  dealing. 
So  prominent  is  this  last  trait,  that  the  infringers  trust 
him  implicitly,  and  often  come  to  see ,  him,  under  a 
pledge  that  they  shall  not  be  troubled  (when  he  seeks 
information  against  other  infringers),  and  leave  his 
office  unmolested,  when  they  know  that  he  holds  war- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  547 

rants  for  their  arrest  for  violation  of  their  injunctions. 
His  success  is  due  largely  to  his  keen  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  men  (for  which  his  checkered  and  event- 
ful life  eminently  fits  him),  great  readiness,  the  power 
of  thinking  rapidly  on  his  feet,  never  losing  his  self- 
control  ;  and,  unlike  most  New  York  lawyers,  he  attends 
to  his  business  — never  neglects  it. 

Governor  Curtin  says  of  him,  "  What  are  his  peculiar 
excellences  as  a  lawyer ?  —  He  wins  his  cases" 


548  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXVII. 

THE   METROPOLITAN   FIRE   DEPART- 
MENT. 

ITS  ORIGIN.  —  THE  NEW  FORCE.  —  THE   HORSES.  —  THE   ENGINE' HOUSES.  — AT 
A  FIRE. THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  DEPARTMENT. 

ITS   ORIGIN. 

THE  act  creating  a  paid  fire  department  was  passed 
March,  1865.  It  disbanded  the  volunteer  companies, 
and  created  a  force  under  the  control  of  commissioners 
appointed  by  the  governor.  The  old  force  was  very 
corrupt  and  unreliable.  The  engine  houses  were  filled 
with  loafers  of  every  description.  The  noise  and  con- 
fusion on  the  streets  on  occasions  of  alarm  were  very 
great.  Citizens  were  annoyed,  and  the  sick  and  dying 
disturbed,  by  the  yelling  of  runners  who  attached  them- 
selves to  the  engines.  Eacing  and  fighting  between 
companies  were  common  ;  disputes  between  companies 
hindered  operations  at  fires,  and  often  ended  in  blows. 
False  alarms  were  frequent,  to  bring  out  the  machines. 
Thieving  was  generally  practised  by  hangers-on  who  got 
within  the  lines,  and  runners  meddled  with  the  duties 
of  firemen.  The  organization  of  runners  was  very 
large,  and  very  formidable,  and  very  profitable.  On  the 


IN  NEW  YORK.  549 

coming  in  of  the  new  department  it  was  violently 
resisted.  The  constitutionality  of  the  law  was  tested 
in  the  Court  of  Appeals.  When  the  act  was  sustained 
by  the  court,  an  effort  was  made  by  bold,  bad  men  to 
disband  the  volunteer  organization  at  once,  and  leave 
the  city  without  protection  against  fire.  In  the  Metro- 
politan Police  Department  were  many  old  firemen,  and 
they  were  organized  to  meet  the  emergency  of  the 
occasion.  From  July  to  November,  1865,  three  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  and  ten  volunteers  were  relieved 
from  duty  as  firemen. 

THE   NEW   FORCE. 

The  new  department  was  organized  with  a  chief 
engineer,  at  a  salary  of  four  thousand  five  hundred  dol- 
lars, an  assistant  engineer,  and  ten  district  engineers. 
There  are  thirty-four  steam  fire  engine  companies,  each 
composed  of  a  foreman,  an  assistant  foreman,  an  en- 
gineer of  steamer,  a  driver,  a  stoker,  and  seven  firemen, 
in  all  twelve  men.  There  are  twelve  hook  and  ladder 
companies.  The  engines  and  apparatus  are  drawn  by 
horses.  The  Metropolitan  Fire  Department  is  corn- 
posed  of  five  hundred  and  four  men,  and  one  hundred 
and  forty-six  horses.  The  steam  engines,  costing  four 
thousand  dollars  each,  are  built  in  Manchester,  New 
Hampshire,  by  the  Amoskeag  Manufacturing  Company, 
and  are  the  cheapest  and  best  that  are  built  in  the 
country.  The  foreman  of  each  company  receives  thir- 
teen hundred  dollars,  the  engineer  twelve  hundred  dol- 
lars, the  assistant  engineer  eleven  hundred  dollars,  and 
the  firemen  one  thousand  dollars  each.  The  depart- 
ment demands  the  whole  time  of  the  men.  It  cost,  in 


550  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

1867,  eight  hundred  and  ninety-three  thousand  dollars 
to  run  this  department. 

THE   HORSES. 

The  horses  connected  with  the  fire  department  are 
among  the  most  remarkable  in  New  York.  They  are  the 
best  that  can  be  found,  and  are  selected  with  great  care 
for  the  work.  One  person  is  employed  to  make  pur- 
chases, and  to  it  he  devotes  all  his  time.  The  docility 
and  intelligence  of  the  horses  are .  remarkable.  They 
are  never  unharnessed,  but  stand  in  the  stable  ready 
for  a  start.  They  are  fed  twice  a  day  —  at  six  in  the 
morning  and  six  at  night.  The  movement  of  the 
the  engines  is  regulated  by  telegrams  from  headquar- 
ters. On  an  alarm  of  fire,  the  station  that  gets  the 
notice  does  not  telegraph  to  other  stations,  but  to  the 
headquarters.  A  gong  is  attached  to  every  station-house, 
and  the  ringing  of  that  gong  is  as  well  understood  by 
the  horses  as  by  the  men.  As  soon  as  it  sounds,  the 
horses  back  with  a  bound,  and  tear  out  of  their  stalls  in 
a  furious  manner,  rush  to  their  positions  at  the  engine, 
and  are  harnessed  in  an  instant,  without  a  word  being 
spoken.  If  the  gong  does  not  sound,  the  word  "Back!" 
produces  the  same  effect.  When  the  alarm  sounds,  the 
men.  can  be  seen  loitering  on  benches  or  lying  down. 
They  spring  for  their  caps,  the  horses  rush  for  their 
places,  every  part  of  the  harness  is  fastened  with  a 
snap,  and  in  fifteen  seconds  from  the  time  the  alarm 
sounds,  the  men  are  in  their  places,  horses  are  har- 
nessed, the  driver  is  in  his  seat,  the  fire  lighted,  and  the 
steamer  on  its  way  to  the  fire.  After  ten  o'clock  at 
night  the. firemen  are  allowed  to  go  to  bed  A  strict 


IN  NEW  YORK.  551 

watch  is  kept,  and  but  thirty  seconds  are  needed  to 
arouse,  to  harness,  and  to  get  under  way.  The  drivers 
are  forbidden  to  go  beyond  a  certain  speed.  The  fore- 
man runs  on  foot  before  the  engine.  The  driver  may 
keep  up  with  him,  but  he  must  not  go  past  him.  The 
horses  are  groomed  with  great  care,  and  are  daily  exer- 
cised when  not  used  before  the  steamer.  They  are  riot 
allowed  to  be  harnessed  or  rode  under  the  saddle,  but 
must  be  exercised  by  walking  gently  before  the  engine- 
house.  These  horses,  fiery  and  spirited,  are  so  trained 
that  they  will  stand  all  day  and  all  night  in  the  midst 
of  the  confusion  of  a  fire,  the  crackling  of  the  flames, 
and  the  crash  of  falling  buildings.  The  chief  engineer 
has  to  attend  all  fires.  He  keeps  his  horse  ready  har- 
nessed, and  when  the  alarm-bell  sounds  he  knows  ex- 
actly where  the  fire  is,  and  moves  towards  it  ,at  once. 

THE   ENGINE   HOUSES. 

These  rooms  are  models  of  neatness,  and  some  of 
them  are  very  elegant.  They  are  no  longer  scenes  of 
debauchery  and  dissipation,  nor  are  they  crowded  at 
night  by  herds  of  loafers,  who  lodge  at  the  expense  of 
the  city.  Twelve  men  occupy  the  room.  They  have 
each  a  specific  work  to  do,  which  occupies  their  time. 
The  basement  contains  the  kindling-wood  and  the 
furnace  which  keeps  the  water  in  the  engine  hot.  On 
the  ground  floor  are  the  engine-house  and  the  stables. 
Everything  is  ready  for  a  start.  The  engine  is  in  per- 
fect order.  The  kindlings  and  coal  are  placed  under 
the  boiler.  A  swab,  saturated  with  turpentine,  lies  on 
the  platform  on  which  the  stoker  stands.  Four  fire- 
men's caps  hang  on  the  engine.  They  belong  to  the 


552  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

engineer,  assistant  engineer,  fireman,  and  stoker.  Two 
of  these  men  are  always  in  the  room.  If  the  fireman 
goes  to  dinner,  the  engineer  remains.  If  a  fire  breaks 
out  in  his  absence,  he  does  not  return  to  the  engine- 
house,  but  starts  for  the  fire,  the  alarm  signal  telling 
him  where  it  is.  No  fireman  is  allowed  to  appear  at  the 
fire  without  his  cap.  This  he  will  find  on  the  engine 
when  he  reaches  the  conflagration.  A  large  dormitory 
over  the  engine-room,  fitted  up  with  every  convenience, 
furnishes  the  sleeping  quarters  of  the  men.  Great  care 
is  taken  in  securing  persons  for  the  department.  They 
must  be  in  sound  physical  health,  have  good  moral 
characters,  be  quiet  and  industrious.  No  person  not  a 
member  of  the  force,  without  a  permit  from  head- 
quarters, is  allowed  to  enter  the  engine-houses.  The 
telegraph  $ystem  connected  with  these  places  is  as  per- 
fect as  can  be  conceived.  The  telegraph  is  under  the 
charge  of  the  foreman.  When  an  alarm  is  telegraphed 
from  any  station,  it  must  be  repeated,  and  the  number 
of  the  station-house  that  sends  it  given,  or  no  attention 
is  paid  to  it.  If  it  is  a  false  alarm,  the  foreman  who  sent 
it  is  held  responsible.  Every  message  is  recorded,  with 
the  name  of  the  sender.  No  station-house  or  engine- 
house  can  be  certain-  when  a  message  is  coming,  there- 
fore they  must  be  continually  on  the  watch.  If  a 
response  is  not  immediate,  an  officer  is  sent  to  the 
delinquent  station  for  an  explanation.  While  I  was  at 
the  headquarters,  to  show  how  rapidly  the  communica- 
tions were  made,  the  superintendent  of  the  fire  alarm 
called  the  roll  of  every  station,  bell-tower,  and  engine- 
house  in  the  district,  including  New  York,  Harlem,  and 
Westchester  County.  Answers  came  back  from  every 


IN  NEW   YORK.  553 

station,  and  the  time  consumed  in  calling  the  roll  and 
getting  returns  was  just  thirty  seconds. 

AT    A   FIRE. 

The  police  of  the  city  have  charge  of  the  order  to 
be  observed  at  a  fire.  Ropes  are  drawn  at  a  proper 
distance,  and  no  one  allowed  inside  the  lines  ex- 
cept the  firemen  and  officials,  who  wear  their  badges 
on  their  coats.  Thieving  and  robbery,  which  were  so 
conspicuous  in  former  times,  and  so  profitable,  do  not 
now  exist.  The  men  are  not  allowed  to  shout,  or  make 
any  demonstrations  on  their  way  to  or  from  the  fire. 
Only  certain  persons  are  allowed  to  ride  on  the  engine. 
Furious  driving  subjects  the  party  to  immediate  arrest, 
and  if  repeated,  to  dismissal. 

THE  GOVERNMENT  OF  THE  DEPARTMENT. 

The  whole  department  is  under  the  charge  of  a  com- 
mission, of  which  General  Shaler,  the  efficient  com- 
mander of  the  First  Division  of  the  New  York  State 
troops,  is  president.  Every  department  of  the  force 
is  run  with  military  exactness.  Men  are  tried  for  viola- 
tions of  duty  and  breaches  of  law  before  the  full  board. 
The  officers  are  held  responsible  for  all  the  property 
under  their  care,  and  nothing  is  furnished  to  them 
except  on  a  requisition,  signed  and  countersigned 
after  the  regulation  of  the  army.  Rules  are  laid 
down  for  the  exercise  and  drill  of  the  horses,  their 
grooming,  when  they  should  be  fed,  how  much  they 
shall  be  fed,  and  what  shall  be  given  to  them.  The 
men  are  drilled  and  exercised  in  everything  that 
pertains  to  their  duty.  They  are  daily  exercised  in 


554  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

the  manner  of  hitching  up  the  horses  to  the  apparatus, 
which  exercise,  with  the  intelligence  and  intuition  of 
the  horses,  enables  this  to  be  done  in  a  time  so  slight 
as  to  seem  incredible.  New  York  may,  indeed,  con- 
gratulate herself  upon  having  one  of  the  most  com- 
plete, efficient,  and  well  disciplined  fire  departments 
in  the  world. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  555 


LXVIII. 

FIRST    DIVISION    NATIONAL    GUARD. 

FORMATION  OF  THE  DIVISION.  —  THE  MILITARY  AS  A  POLICE  FORCE. — THE 
MILITARY  AND  RIOTS.  —  THE  SEVENTH  REGIMENT  AND  THE  ASTOR  PLACE 
RIOT. — MAYOR  WOOD'S  RIOT.  —  AN  EPISODE.  —  THE  FINALE. —  FIRST  DI- 
VISION AND  THE  WAR.  —  PRESIDENTIAL  RECEPTION.  —  THE  PARADES. 

NEW  YORK  has  always  had  occasion  to  be  proud  of 
her  military  organizations.  Since  the  Revolution  there 
has  been  a  corps  of  volunteer  soldiers,  on  whom  the 
authorities  have  relied  to  enforce  law  and  preserve 
peace.  For  many  years  New  York  was  without  police. 
A  few  watchmen  patrolled  the  streets  at  night,  most 
of  whom  were  laboring  men  through  the  day,  and 
added  to  their  scanty  income  by  guarding  the  city  at 
night.  In  all  cases  of  brawls,  riots,  and  all  disturbances 
of  the  peace,  the  magistrates  relied  entirely  upon  the 
military.  This  force  were  voluntary  soldiers,  in  every 
sense  of  the  word.  They  purchased  their  own  uniforms, 
when  they  had  any,  and  their  arms  and  equipments. 
They  paid  for  their  armories,  and  the  expenses  for 
music  and  parades  were  borne  by  an  assessment  on 
each  member.  Yet  for  eighty  years  the  city  military 
has  been  sustained,  and  when  the  new  organization 
took  place  in  1862,  the  volunteer  city  troops  numbered 


556  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

thirteen  thousand  men,  some  of  them  in  the  highest 
state  of  discipline,  with  expensive  armories,  uniforms, 
and  equipments,  and  the  whole  division  was  unequalled 
by  any  volunteer  organization  in  the  world. 

FORMATION    OF   THE   DIVISION. 

At  the  close  of  the  revolutionary  war  the  city 
troops  were  organized  as  artillery,  and  were  designated 
as  the  First  Division  of  Artillery.  The  commandant 
had  under  him  all  the  ununiformed  militia  of  the  city. 
Till  1867  there  had  been  only  three  commanders  of 
this  division:  General  Stephens,  who  organized  the  divi- 
sion of  artillery,  General  Morton,  and  General  Sanford. 
General  Sanford  held  his  position  for  thirty  years,  and 
was  the  oldest  commissioned  officer  in  the  state.  In 
1846  the  old  military  system  was  abolished,  and  the 
First  Division  of  uniformed  troops  created.  The  com- 
mander of  the  First  Division  of  Artillery,  outranking 
all  others,  took  command  of  the  new  military  district, 
including  the  city  and  county  of  New  York,  with 
Staten  Island.  In  1862  the  law  was  again  changed, 
and  the  city  troops  became  the  First  Division  of  the 
National  Guard.  It  is  composed  of  four  brigades,  and 
musters  thirteen  thousand  men.  Under  the  new  con- 
struction the  arms  and  uniform  are  provided  by  the 
United  States.  The  city  of  New  York  appropriates  five 
hundred  dollars  a  year  to  each  regiment  for  an  armory. 
Parades,  music,  and  other  expenses  are  borne  by  the 
troops.  To  keep  such  a  body  of  men  together,  to  sub- 
ject them  to  the  proper  drill  and  discipline,  to  make 
them  bear  their  own  expenses,  which  the  First  Division 
has  done  for  eighty  years,  to  keep  the  peace  at  all 


IN   NEW   YORK.  557 

hazards  and  under  all  forms  of  excitement,  to  quell 
riots,  shoot  down  their  fellow-citizens  when  ordered  so 
to  do,  to  take  their  lives  in  their  hands  when  called 
upon  by  their  commanding  officer  to  expose  them- 
selves, —  to  do  this  because  they  choose  to  do  it,  and 
to  uphold  the  laws  on  all  occasions,  reflects  great  credit 
on  the  commanding  general  and  the  troops. 

THE  MILITARY    AS    A    POLICE  FORCE. 

Till  the  coming  in  of  the  Metropolitan  Police,  the 
city  troops  held  the  quiet  of  New  York  in  their  hands. 
With  the  exception  of  a  few  riots,  the  city  has  always 
been  celebrated  for  its  good  order  and  quietness.  It  is 
full  of  desperate  men,  ready  for  plunder,  robbery,  and 
arson.  It  is  the  headquarters  of  the  crime  of  the 
country.  It  is  easy  to  hide  in  the  multitude  of  our 
people.  The  dens,  dark  chambers,  underground  rooms, 
narrow  alleys,  and  secret  retreats,  render  criminals 
more  safe  in  the  city  than  in  any  other  part  of  the 
land.  But  for  the  presence  of  the  military  nothing 
would  be  safe.  Banks  would  be  plundered,  men  robbed 
in  the  streets  ;  no  man  could  sleep  safely  on  his  own 
pillow ;  property  and  life  would  be  as  insecure  as  they 
were  in  Sodom.  There  is  something  very  remarkable 
about  the  New  York  military.  It  represents  every 
phase  of  life,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  It  em- 
braces every  nationality.  The  Seventh  Eegiment  is 
essentially  New  York.  The  Sixty-ninth  is  wholly  Irish. 
In  the  time  of  the  Know-Nothing  movement,  the 
Seventy-first  Regiment  became  American,  par  excellence, 
and  no  man  was  allowed  to  join  it  unless  he  was  born 
of  American  parents.  Besides  this,  there  were  German 


558  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

regiments,  regiments  heterogeneous,  regiments  com- 
posed mainly  of  Jews  ;  jet  the  whole  division  has  been 
a  unit  in  preserving  public  peace  and  enforcing  law. 
Questions  have  come  up  that  have  agitated  the  whole 
community,  and  men  have  risen  against  the  law* 
From  thirty  to  fifty  thousand  men  have  filled  the 
Park,  defying  the  authorities,  and  threatening  to  de- 
stroy public  property ;  Wall  Street  has  been  crowded 
with  maddened  men,  assembled  to  tear  down  the 
banks;  mobs  have  gathered  on  political  questions, — 
and  on  every  one  of  these  exciting  topics  the  city 
troops  have  had  as  much  direct  interest,  or  indirect,  as 
any  of  the  rioters,  and,  as  individuals,  have  been  as 
much  excited  ;  yet,  as  soldiers,  they  have  never  shrunk 
from  their  duty.  They  have  promptly  obeyed  every 
call  of  their  officers,  have  been  under  arms  night  and 
day  for  many  days,  placed  their  cannon  in  the  street 
when  ordered  to  do  so,  and  were  as  reliable  in  any 
crisis  as  if  they  had  no  interest  in  the  city  and  not  a 
friend  in  the  world.  There  is  not  a  rogue  in  the  Union 
that  does  not  know  that  should  he  overpower  the  civil 
authorities,  a  few  sharp  taps  on  the  City  Hall  bell 
would  bring  ten  thousand  bayonets  to  the  support  of 
law ;  and  that  the  city  troops  would  lay  down  their 
lives  as  quickly  to  preserve  the  peace  as  they  would 
to  defend  the  nation's  flag  on  the  battle-field. 

THE   MILITARY   AND    RIOTS. 

One  01  the  earliest  riots  was  known  as  the  Abolition 
riot,  in  which  the  houses  and  stores  of  leading  abo- 
litionists were  attacked  and  sacked.  The  military 
were  called  out,  and  a  general  conflagration^  prevented. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  559 

During  the  great  fire  in  1836,  which  swept  all  New 
York,  from  Wall  Street  to  the  Battery,  and  from  Broad 
Street  to  the  water,  the  military  were  on  duty  three 
days  and  three  nights.  The  day  Mayor  Clark  was 
sworn  into  office,  he  received  a  letter  from  the  presi- 
dents of  the  city  banks,  informing  him  that  the  banks 
were  to  suspend  specie  payments,  and  that  they  feared 
a  riot.  The  mayor  was  terribly  frightened,  and  sent 
for  General  Sanford,  who  assured  the  mayor  that  he 
could  keep  the  peace.  The  next  morning  Wall  Street 
was  packed  with  people,  who  threatened  to  tear  down 
the  banks  and  get  at  the  specie.  The  First  Division 
was  called  out.  There  was  probably  not  a  man  in  that 
corps  who  was  not  as  excited,  personally,  as  the 
maddened  throng  that  surged  through  the  streets ;  yet 
not  a  man  shrank  from  his  duty,  or  refused  to  obey  his 
commander.  The  First  Division  were  marched  to  the 
head  of  Wall  Street,  except  the  cavalry,  who  were 
stationed  around  the  banks  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
city.  General  Sanford  planted  his  cannon  on  the  flag- 
ging in  front  of  Trinity  Church.  The  cannon  com- 
manded the  whole  of  Wall  Street.  He  then  sent  word 
to  the  rioters  that  his  fuse  was  lighted,  and  on  the 
first  outbreak  he  should  fire  upon  the  rioters,  and  that 
peaceable  citizens  had  better  get  out  of  the  way.  The 
announcement  operated  like  magic,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  there  was  not  a  corporal's  guard  left  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  banks.  The  citizens  knew  that  the 
troops  would  do  their  duty,  and  that  silent  park  of 
artillery  was  an  efficient  peace  corps. 


560        SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


THE  SEVENTH  REGIMENT  AND  THE  ASTOR  PLACE  RIOT. 

This  famous  corps,  of  which  the  city  has  always 
been  so  justly  proud,  came  prominently  into  notice 
during  the  Astor  Place  riots.  As  the  military  was 
composed  of  citizens  taken  from  the  banks,  stores, 
shops,  and  places  of  mechanical  toil,  people  regarded 
the  troops  rather  as  holiday  soldiers  than  men  organized 
for  sanguinary  conflicts.  Within  the  lifetime  of  the 
generation  that  organized  the  riot,  the  troops  had 
never  come  in  contact  with  the  citizens.  It  was  not 
believed  that  they  would  fire  on  their  friends  if  ordered 
so  to  do,  and  the  threats  to  call  out  the  military  were 
received  with  derision.  If  called  out,  it  was  presumed 
that  they  would  fraternize  with  the  people.  The 
friends  of  Macready,  the  English  actor,  and  of  Forrest, 
had  succeeded  in  creating  a  high  state  of  excitement 
about  these  two  men.  Clinton  Hall  was  then  an  opera 
house.  Macready  had  an  engagement,  and  was  to 
appear  in  that  place.  A  riot  ensued.  The  Seventh 
Regiment  was  called  out  to  quell  it.  They  marched 
to  their  position,  and,  in  obedience  to  orders,  they  fired 
on  the  mob.  From  that  moment  they  took  their 
high  place  in  the  confidence  of  our  citizens  as  the  con- 
servators of  peace,  which  position  they  have  never 
lost.  Their  discipline,  soldierly  bearing,  full  ranks,  and 
splendid  marching,  have  been  the  theme  of  universal 
praise.  On  the  first  visit  of  the  corps  to  Boston,  the 
Bostonians  received  with  much  allowance  the  eulo- 
giums  on  this  fine  corps.  On  reaching  the  city,  an 
immense  concourse  greeted  the  regiment  at  the  station, 
and  followed  it  to  the  Common,  where  thousands  of 


IN   NEW   YORK.  561 

citizens  were  gathered  to  look  on  the  soldiers,  the 
boast  of  New  York.  The  regiment  formed  in  line  on 
the  great  mall.  The  mighty  concourse  were  hushed 
to  silence,  as  not  an  order  was  given.  The  regiment 
stood  in  exact  line,  like  statues.  Soon  the  clear,  ring- 
ing tones  of  the  commander  shouted  out  the  command, 
"  Order  —  arms  ! "  Down  came  every  gun,  as  if  moved 
by  machinery.  Boston  was  satisfied.  Shouts,  bravoes, 
and  clapping  of  hands  rent  the  air.  With  the  second 
order,  "  Parade  —  rest !  "  the  regiment  was  nearly 
swallowed  up  alive. 


MAYOR    WOOD'S    RIOT. 


On  the  formation  of  the  Metropolitan  Police,  with 
Simeon  Draper  at  its  head,  Mayor  Wood  organized  an 
armed  resistance  to  the  force.  He  shut  himself  up  in 
the  City  Hall,  closed  the  iron  gates,  and  filled  the 
inside  of  the  hall  with  the  old  police,  with  Matsell  at 
its  head,  gave  orders  to  resist  unto  blood,  and  to  admit 
no  one.  Recorder  Smith  had  issued  warrants  for  the 
arrest  of  the  mayor,  and  the  new  police,  under  Captain 
Carpenter,  were  ordered  to  serve  the  warrants.  The 
Park  contained  not  less  than  thirty  thousand  men,  the 
larger  part  of  whom  were  friends  of  Wood,  and  were 
resolved  to  sustain  him  in  his  resistance  to  the  new 
order  of  things.  Wood's  police  were  armed  with  clubs 
and  revolvers,  with  orders  to  use  both  if  it  was  neces- 
sary to  resist  an  entrance  into  the  City  Hall.  The  lo- 
cation of  the  new  commissioners  was  in  White  Street, 
and  their  friends  were  assembled  in  full  force  around 
their  quarters,  as  Wood's  friends  were  assembled  in 
the  Park,  The  day  before,  General  Sanford  had  served 
36  ' 


562  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

a  warrant  on  Mr.  Wood,  and  the  understanding  was 
that  all  warrants  from  the  new  commission  should  be 
served  through  the  commandant  of  the  First  Division. 
Under  the  notion  of  vindicating  the  law,  two  additional 
warrants  were  issued,  which  the  commissioners  resolved 
to  have  served  on  Wood  by  their  own  men.  The 
attempt  would  have  been  madness.  The  officers  would 
never  have  reached  the  City  Hall  steps.  They  would 
have  been  pounded  to  jelly  by  the  maddened  men  who 
filled  the  Park,  who  were  yelling,  screaming,  shouting, 
frenzied  with  excitement  and  bad  whiskey,  and  cheer- 
ing for  "  Fernandy  Wud." 

General  Sanford  had  fifteen  thousand  men  under 
arms.  His  cannon  commanded  both  White  Street  and 
the  City  Park.  He  went  to  the  commissioners  in 
White  Street,  and  reminded  them  of  the  agreement 
that  all  warrants  should  be  served  through  him  ;  that 
if  the  new  police  undertook  to  serve  papers,  they  not 
only  would  be  destroyed,  but  that  the  lives  of  a  thou- 
sand men  would  be  taken  before  peace  could  be  re- 
stored. "  Better  a  thousand  lives  lost,  than  that  the 
dignity  of  the  law  be  not  upheld,"  said  the  commis- 
sioners. "  Perhaps  so,"  replied  the  general,  "  if  you 
and  I  are  not  among  the  slain." 

AN  EPISODE. 

While  these  scenes  were  being  transacted  with  the 
new  commissioners,  an  interesting  episode  occurred, 
in  which  the  Seventh  Eegirnent  bore  an  important 
part  That  regiment  had  accepted  an  invitation  to 
accompany  Governor  King  to  Boston,  and  participate 
in  the  celebration  of  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  March- 


IN   NEW    YORK.  563 

ing  down  Broadway  to  embark,  the  regiment  was 
ordered  to  halt  in  front  of  the  City  Hall  to  aid  General 
Sanford  in  serving  a  warrant  on  Mayor  Wood.  The 
general  entered  the  City  Hall  in  company  with  the 
sheriff,  served  the  warrant,  and  left  the  mayor  in 
charge  of  that  officer.  Supposing  the  difficulty  was 
over,  the  regiment  were  allowed  to  embark  for  Boston. 
Considering  that  their  dignity  had  been  lowered  by 
the  aid  General  Sanford  rendered,  the  commissioners 
the  next  day  got  out  two  additional  warrants  (to  which 
allusion  has  been  made),  which  they  were  resolved  the 
civil  force  should  serve.  General  Sanford  told  the 
Commissioners  that  they  could  not  serve  them,  and 
that  he  should  not  allow  them  to  be  served.  "And 
how  can  you  prevent  it?"  said  the  commissioners. 
"  I  have  cannon  in  the  streets,  and  troops  under  my 
command,  and  I  shall  use  both  if  it  is  necessary.  I 
will  not  allow  the  peace  of  the  city  to  be  broken." 
"  Well,"  said  the  commissioners,  "  we'll  have  a  force 
here  very  soon  who  will  protect  us,  and  authority  that 
will  outrank  you."  Taking  the  hint,  General  Sanford 
went  to  the  telegraph  office,  and  sent  a  telegram  to  the 
colonel  of  the  Seventh  Regiment,  to  the  purport, 
"  Stay  where  you  are  ;  finish  your  visit.  You  are  not 
needed  in  New  York." 

Previous  to  this  a  telegram  had  been  sent  to  Gover- 
nor King,  signed  by  the  new  commissioners,  to  which 
was  added  the  name  of  the  brigadier  general  of  the 
First  Division.  The  purport  was,  "  Return  immediately, 
and  bring  with  you  the  Seventh  Regiment."  Governor 
King  received  the  telegram  just  as  he  arose  to  make  a 
speech  under  the  marquee  on  Bunker  Hill.  He  sup- 


564  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

posed  New  York  was  in  the  hands  of  rioters.  He  had 
no  doubt  but  that  General  Sanford  was  killed,  as  his 
name  was  not  on  the  telegram,  while  that  of  a  sub- 
ordinate officer  was.  Greatly  excited,  Governor  King 
left  the  tent,  gave  orders  for  the  immediate  return  of 
the  Seventh  Kegiment,  took  the  noon  train,  and  reached 
New  York  at  eleven  at  night.  The  regiment  imme- 
diately inarched  out,  and  descended  the  hill  on  their 
way  home.  At  the  foot  of  Bunker  Hill  they  were  met 
by  General  Sanford's  order,  countermarched,  and  went 
back  to  their  festivities. 

THE   FINALE. 

After  assuring  the  commissioners  that  they  would 
not  be  allowed  to  attempt  to  serve  the  warrants, 
General  Sanford  took  Captain  Carpenter  and  Captain 
Leonard  by  the  arm,  and  walked  up  to  the  City  Hall. 
Wood  had  not  resisted  the  sheriff.  He  recognized 
General  Sanford's  authority  ;  but  he  said  he  would  not 
have  a  warrant  served  on  him  while  he  was  alive  by 
any  member  of  the  new  police  force.  The  crowd  was 
so  dense  in  the  Park  that  a  lane  had  to  be  made  for 
.the  officers,  and  they  went  single  file  up  to  the  iron 
gates.  Matsell  was  in  charge.  General  Sanford 
announced  his  coming,  who  his  companions  were,  and 
what  their  business  was.  They  had  come  from  the 
Police  Commission  to  serve  warrants  on  Mayor  Wood. 
The  general  ordered  the  gates  to  be  opened,  or  he 
should  batter  them  down  with  his  cannon.  Matsell 
reported  the  order  to  Mayor  Wood,  and  he  ordered  the 
gates  to  be  opened  and  the  gentlemen  admitted.  They 
found  the  mayor  in  his  private  office,  attended  by  his 


IN   NEW  YORK.  565 

counsel,  Judge  Dean.  He  was  as  bland  as  a  summer's 
morning,  was  very  glad  to  see  his  friends,  had  the  war- 
rants examined  by  his  counsel,  who  pronounced  them 
all  right  •  and,  though  he  had  said  he  would  resist  unto 
death,  he  was  very  tam.e  in  his  submission.  The  mayor 
was  ordered  to  send  away  the  police  force  from  the 
City  Hall,  which  he  immediately  did.  This  being 
done,  the  gates  of  the  City  Hall  were  thrown  back, 
and  the  crowd  quietly  dispersed.  Governor  King 
sought  an  interview  afterwards  with  General  Sanford, 
and  thanked  him  for  his  wise  measures  in  preserving 
the  peace  of  the  city.  The  July  riots  transpired  during 
the  absence  of  the  military  from  the  state.  Had  the 
city  troops  not  been  in  Pennsylvania,  that  flagrant  out- 
rage would  not  have  been  attempted. 

FIRST   DIVISION   AND    THE   WAR. 

Every  regiment  in  the  First  Division,  through  its 
colonel,  offered  its  services  to  defend  the  capital  when 
it  was  supposed  to  be  in  danger.  The  Seventh  Regi-, 
ment  was  the  first  to  march  out  of  the  city.  It  was 
immediately  joined  by  the  leading  regiments,  who  re- 
mained in  the  field  as  long  as  their  services  were  needed. 
Over  one  hundred  thousand  men  went  from  this  city  to 
the  support  of  our  flag  during  the  war.  Nine  thousand 
men  at  one  time  have  been  in  the  field  in  connection 
with  the  First  Division.  Three  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  eighty  officers  were  in  the  conflict  who  had  be- 
longed to  the  First  Division  of  our  city  troops.  They 
were  in  command  of  regiments  raised  in  all  parts  of 
the  country. 


566  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


PRESIDENTIAL   RECEPTION. 

It  has  been  usual  for  the  First  Division  to  tender  a 
reception  to  the  President  of  the  United  States  on  his 
first  official  visit  to  New  York.  This  has  been  done 
since  the  days  of  General  Jackson.  On  his  way  to  the 
tomb  of  Douglas,  President  Johnson  passed  through 
New  York.  The  First  Division  tendered  him  the 
usual  escort.  The  courtesy  gave  great  offence  to  many 
of  our  citizens,  and  shortly  after  General  Sanford  was 
removed,  as  his  friends  say,  for  tendering  the  escort  to 
President  Johnson  and  his  suite.  The  division  has 
never  been  political,  and  never  can  be  while  it  retains 
its  efficiency  as  a  military  organization. 

THE    PARADES. 

There  is  no  public  recreation  afforded  to  our  citizens 
that  gives  such  genuine  and  general  pleasure  as  the 
parade  of  the  division.  Thirteen  thousand  men  under 
.arms,  handsomely  uniformed  and  equipped,  with  ban- 
ners, music,  and  display,  are  an  attractive  sight.  Broad- 
way is  cleared.  The  city  for  miles  sends  its  tribute  to 
the  pavement.  Thousands  look  on  the  pleasant  sight, 
and  the  troops  are  cheered  through  the  whole  line. 
There  is  in  no  part  of  the  world  so  fine  a  volunteer 
corps.  When  it  was  proposed  to  send  the  Seventh 
Kegiment  of  New  York  to  the  Exhibition  at  Paris,  as  a 
specimen  of  our  volunteer  military,  the  idea  wras  derided. 
France,  it  was  said,  is  a  nation  of  soldiers,  and  we  would 
simply  make  ourselves  ridiculous  in  sending  young 
men  from  the  warehouse,  the  office,  and  from  trade, 
dressed  up  in  uniform,  as  a  specimen  of  American 


IN  NEW   YORK.  567 

soldiers.  The  crowned  heads  of  Europe  would  laugh 
at  our  raw  troops,  when  compared  with  the  standing 
armies  of  the  Old  World.  But  the  Seventh  Regiment 
would  have  created  a  sensation  in  Paris.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  Imperial  Guard  of  France,  there  are  no 
such  soldiers  in  England  or  France.  The  men  in  the 
British  army  are  very  small.  The  government  has 
been  obliged  to  lower  the  standard  of  size  to  get  men 
to  serve  at  all.  The  soldiers  in  the  French  army  look 
stunted.  The  nation  seems  to  have  been  swept  to  put 
dwarfs  in  uniform.  In  discipline,  military  drill,  pre- 
cision, and  soldierly  movements,  neither  the  French 
nor  English  soldiers  will  compare  with  our  first-class 
regiments.  I  do  not  refer  to  the  Imperial  Guard  who 
attend  on  the  Emperor's  person,  which  is  the  finest 
body  of  men  I  ever  saw.  The  First  Division  embraces 
the  most  vigorous,  liberal,  and  noble-hearted  of  our 
citizens.  Smart,  energetic  men,  whether  merchant  or 
mechanic,  with  shrewd  and  successful  young  men,  are 
found  in  the  National  Guard.  Whatever  they  under- 
take is  a  success.  A  concert,  a  fair,  a  testimonial,  or  a 
lecture,  if  they  take  hold  of  it,  is  sure  to  succeed.  If 
any  one  wants  aid  or  assistance,  and  can  enlist  the 
sympathies  of  the  military,  money  is  poured  out  like 
water.  Our  citizen  soldiery  are  the  great  conservative 
element  of  our  community,  the  guardians  of  law,  and 
the  true  bond  of  unity  between  the  different  sections 
of  our  country. 


568  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXIX. 

HON.  JOHN    KETTELAS    HACKETT, 
RECORDER   OF   NEW  YORK. 

THE  RECORDER'S  COURT.  —  RECORDER  HACKETT.  —  THE  RECORDER  ON  THE 

BENCH.  —  SENTENCING   CRIMINALS. — COURT    OF   GENERAL   SESSIONS. 

RECORDER'S  COURT. 

THIS  court  is  coeval  with  the  city.  It  was  borrowed 
from  the  English.  The  recorder  of  London  was  a 
dignitary  of  great  consequence,  and  the  lord  mayor's 
special  adviser.  The  most  honored  and  the  wisest 
magistrates  were  assigned  to  this  position.  In  New 
York  the  court  has  cognizance  of  criminal  offences, 
from  felony  to  capital  crimes.  The  city  judge  is  the 
assistant  of  the  recorder,  and  presides  alternately  with 
him.  The  room  in  which  the  court  is  held  is  small,  but 
pleasant.  It  is  crowded  during  the  sessions  of  the 
court  with  jurymen,  lawyers,  witnesses,  friends  of  the 
accused,  eminent  men,  and  with  rogues  and  thieves  of 
nil  degrees.  On  the  left  of  the  recorder,  below  the 
jurymen,  huddled  together  in  a  row,  are  from  fifty  to  a 
hundred  of  the  most  desperate  criminals,  thieves,  and 
pickpockets  that  can  be  found  in  the  city.  They  are 
well  known  to  the  judge  and  to  the  police.  They  like 


IN  NEW   YORK.  569 

the  excitement  of  a  criminal  trial.  They  take  an 
interest  in  their  friends  who  are  before  the  court. 
They  study  criminal  law.  They  learn  how  the  prose- 
cution can  be  broken  down.  They  learn  the  sharp 
practice  of  the  law,  and  when  to  plead  guilty  to  a  small 
offence  to  escape  conviction  of  a  heavier  penalty.  They 
are  very  sharp  in  committing  crime,  and  adroit  in  es- 
caping punishment.  They  express  their  gratification 
when  one  of  their  friends  escapes  in  a  very  audible 
manner,  not  always  heeding  the  gavel  of  the  judge 
who  raps  to  order. 

RECORDER   HACKETT. 

He  is  the  son  of  the  world-renowned  Shakespearian 
actor,  James  H.  Hackett.  His  grandfather  was  a  native 
of  Holland.  He  is  a  Knickerbocker,  as  have  been 
almost  all  of  the  recorders.  He  held  a  front  rank 
among  the  advocates  at  the  New  York  bar.  For  several 
years  he  was  associated  with  the  corporation  counsel  in 
the  trial  of  municipal  cases.  He  is  a  splendid  specimen 
of  a  man,  over  six  feet  high,  and  of  graceful  and  robust 
proportions,  with  a  full,  powerful  frame,  a  clear  blue 
eye,  and  a  voice  sonorous  and  very  musical.  He  com- 
mands the  respect  of  all  who  have  business  at  his 
court.  He  is  bland  in  manner,  but  very  decided  and 
firm.  He  has  the  reputation  of  being  severe  in  his 
sentences,  but  he  is  so  tender  and  humane  in  pro- 
nouncing them,  and  so  eminently  just,  that  he  secures 
the  respect  of  all.  He  is  a  perfect  gentleman  on  the 
bench,  courteous  and  affable,  as  much  so  to  the  poorest 
prisoner  as  to  the  counsel  that  defends  him.  The  best 
criminal  lawyers  practise  before  the  recorder.  Wealthy 


570  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

clients  demand  the  leading  talent;  pettifoggers  and 
Tombs  lawyers  also  address  his  honor.  But  they  are 
put  on  their  best  behavior.  If  the}^  deceive,  resort  to 
any  tricks,  are  guilty  of  misrepresentation,  they  are 
turned  out  of  court.  Policy  keeps  them  respectable 
and  honest  before  the  recorder. 

THE  RECORDER  ON  THE  BENCH. 

Promptly  on  the  hour  the  recorder  takes  his  seat, 
raps  with  his  gavel,  and  calls  to  order.  He  dresses 
elegantly  and  in  fine*  taste.  In  personal  appearance 
he  well  becomes  his  station.  One  of  the  institutions  of 
this  court  is  the  clerk,  Mr.  Henry  Vandervoort.  He  is 
tall,  slim,  very  courteous  in  his  manner,  and  kind 
towards  the  prisoners  at  the  bar.  •  He  is  sixty  years  of 
age,  but  would  not  be  taken  for  more  than  forty.  He 
has  been  thirty-five  years  the  clerk  of  this  court.  His 
long  connection  with  desperate  men  has  not  hardened 
his  spirit  nor  chilled  his  courtesy.  He  is  an  ency- 
clopaedia of  criminal  law.  To  the  recorder  he  is  in- 
valuable. He  knows  all  the  trials,  statutes,  penalties, 
precedents,  and  authorities  needed  for  every  occasion. 

SENTENCING   CRIMINALS. 

The  day  for  pronouncing  sentence  is  one  of  great 
interest.  Testimony  that  cannot  be  legally  produced 
on  the  trial  is  heard  in  mitigation  of  the  penalty.  The 
patience,  kind-heartedness,  and  courtesy  of  the  recorder 
here  come  into  full  play.  The  position  of  the  judge  is 
one  of  great  delicacy.  While  he  gives  the  criminal  the 
benefit  of  a  doubt  in  every  case,  he  must  take  care 
that  clemency  does  not  interfere  with  justice.  He 


IN   NEW   YORK.  571 

deals  with  the  most  desperate  men  and  women.  Before 
his  eyes  roguery  is  daily  committed.  Liars  combine  to 
clear  the  guilty.  Every  artifice  is  resorted  to  to  excite 
sympathy.  Sick  women,  who  have  no  connection  with 
the  case,  are  brought  into  court  to  work  on  the  feelings 
of  the  judge.  Pretended  mothers  and  sisters  cry  and 
sniffle  at  the  bar.  Babies  are  hired  for  a  day  in  court. 
All  this  the  recorder  knows. 

Atrocious  criminals  plead  guilty  to  a  minor  offence, 
or  throw  themselves  on  the  mercy  of  the  court :  such 
get  the  full  penalty  of  the  law  notwithstanding.  A 
prisoner  to  whom  clemency  can  be  shown  is  sure  of  a 
merciful  sentence  if  he  pleads  guilty.  When  a  heavy 
penalty  is  pronounced,  it  is  uttered  in  the  tone  of 
sincere  regret,  prefixed  by  the  remark,  "  My  duty 
compels  me  to  sentence  you  to  the  full  term  allowed 
by  the  law."  The  great  mass  of  prisoners  in  this  court 
are  young  :  from  sixteen  to  thirty.  Whether  sentenced 
or  discharged  they  get  good  advice  from  the  recorder. 
Frequently  citizens  of  respectability  and  high  standing 
are  brought  up  for  assault  and  battery,  or  for  breaches 
of  the  peace  :  in  such  cases  respectability  and  standing 
avail  nothing.  "  You  are  old  enough  to  know  better 
than  to  commit  the  offence  with  which  you  are 
charged."  Some  claim  a  lenient  sentence  on  the 
ground  that  they  agree  politically  with  his  honor. 
"  Prisoner,  if  you  are  a  Democrat,  you  ought  to  know 
better  than  to  do  as  you  have  done.  I  shall  sentence 
you  to  the  full  term  allowed  by  law."  In  trials  or  in 
sentences  the  recorder  is  prompt,  clear,  and  brief. 
His  charges  embrace  only  the  points  in  the  case  that 
the  jury  have  to  consider.  No  impertinent  counsel 


572  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

rides  over  him.  When  a  noisy  brawler  objects  to  a 
question,  the  recorder  says,  "  I  shall  admit  the  ques- 
tion. You  must  appeal."  The  tone  and  manner  in- 
dicate that  nothing  more  need  be  said. 

COURT    OF    GENERAL    SESSIONS. 

The  Court  of  General  Sessions  is  nearly  coeval  with 
the  settlement  of  New  York.  It  was  recognized  in  the 
Dongan  Charter  of  1684,  in  the  time  of  George  the 
Second.  It  was  founded  in  the  time  of  Charles  the 
Second,  when  the  city  was  called  "  The  Ancient  City 
of  New  York."  The  curious  old  black  letter  manuscript 
in  the  archives  of  the  New  York  Historical  Society 
contains  the  original  formation  of  this  court,  its  oaths, 
jurisdiction,  and  privileges.  It  has  coordinate  jurisdic- 
tion in  criminal  cases  with  the  Court  of  Oyer  and 
Terminer,  over  which  presides  any  justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  the  state.  It  has  jurisdiction  of  all 
crimes  committed  in  the  county  of  New  York.  Two 
police  magistrates  have  power  to  try  and  sentence 
all  criminals  guilty  of  misdemeanors.  The  Recorder's 
Court  can  try  only  cases  where  indictments  have  been 
found  by  the  grand  jury.  The  grand  jury  is  a  body 
composed  of  twenty-three  members.  They  are  re- 
quired by  law  to  appear  in  open  court,  and  present 
their  indictments  through  their  foreman.  All  crim- 
inals have  a  right  to  a  trial  by  jury.  If,  when  ar- 
raigned before  police  magistrates,  criminals  demand  a 
jury  trial,  they  must  be  sent  up  to  the  Court  of  Ses- 
sions, to  be  tried  before  the  recorder.  No  one  can 
spend  a  day  in  the  Recorder's  Court  without  interest 


IN  NEW   YORK.  573 

and  profit.  By  no  other  officer  who  represents  the 
city  and  county  is  the  law  better  upheld,  justice 
more  honorably  or  humanely  administered,  and  crime 
more  surely  punished,  than  by  the  recorder  of  the  city 
New  York. 


574  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 


LXX. 

REV.    DR.    SAMUEL    OSGOOD,    OF    THE 
CHURCH    OF    THE    MESSIAH.     . 


UNITARIANISM  IN  NEW  YORK.  —  DR.   OSGOOD  AS  A  THEOLOGIAN.  —  DR.  OSGOOD 
IN  THE  PULPIT.  —  NEW  CHURCH. 

DR.  OSQOOD  is  a  leader  among  Liberal  Christians.  He 
is  a  representative  man.  He  has  been  in  the  ministry 
over  thirty  years,  and  has  been  settled  over  the  same 
church  in  this  city  for  more  than  eighteen  years.  He 
looks  scarcely  forty.  His  hair  is  dark,  his  step  elastic, 
and  for  vigor  and  fervor  in  the  pulpit  he  is  in  the 
prime  of  his  strength.  He  was  installed  successor  to 
Rev.  Dr.  Dewey,  in  1849.  He  took  rank  at  once  among 
our  foremost  preachers.  He  early  identified  himself 
with  the  cause  of  education,  and  has  felt  especial 
interest  in  the  commercial  and  religious  welfare  of  the 
city.  He  is  one  of  the  best  platform  speakers  in  the 
land.  He  prepares  his  sermons  with  great  care,  leaves 
his  manuscript  in  his  study,  and  brings  to  his  pulpit 
the  freshness  of  extemporaneous  speaking  and  the 
accuracy  of  a  written  discourse.  He  is  moderate  in 
his  views,  and  is  more  of  an  eclectic  than  a  partisan. 
He  is  a  genial  and  intelligent  companion,  a  man  of 


IN  NEW  YORK.  575 

catholic  spirit,  and  blends  himself  thoroughly  with  the 
humanities  of  the  age. 

UNITAEIANISM   IN  NEW  YORK* 

There  has  always  been  a  great  deal  of  what  usually 
passes  as  Liberal  religion  in  New  York.  But  most  of 
it  was  outside  of  church  organizations,  and  known  as 
free-thinking  in  the  olden  time.  At  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  century  the  present  Liberal  Christian 
body  had  no  open  representatives  here  except  a  small 
society  of  Universalists,  who  held  orthodox  doctrines  in 
almost  all  points,  except  of  final  universal  salvation. 
The  liberals  themselves,  who  held  Christian  usages,  were 
generally  scattered  through  the  leading  churches.  The 
ultra  churches,  who  quarrelled  with  all  revelation,  met 
in  clubs  and  conventicles  of  infidels. 

The  first  Unitarian  preaching  was  given  by  Dr. 
Channing,  April  25,  1819,  in  the  Medical  College, 
Barclay  Street.  This  was  followed  by  regular  worship 
in  a  hall  on  the  corner  of  Broadway  and  Reade  Street. 
The  first  Congregational  Church,  as  such,  was  in- 
corporated on  the  19th  November,  1819.  It  laid  the 
corner  stone  of  its  edifice  in  Chambers  Street,  April  29, 
1820.  Edward  Everett  preached  the  dedication  sermon, 
January  20,  1821.  Rev.  William  Ware  was  ordained 
pastor,  December  18,  1821.  On  November  24, 1825,  he 
laid  the  corner  stone  of  the  second  Unitarian  Church, 
on  the  corner  of  Prince  and  Mercer  Streets.  Over  the 
second  church  Rev.  William  P.  Lunt  was  ordained,  June 
19,  1828.  Mr.  Lunt  was  succeeded  by  Rev.  Dr.  Dewey 
in  1834.  The  second  church  edifice  was  destroyed 
by  fire  in  1837.  In  1839  the  congregation  dedicated 


576  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

the  new  Church  of  the  Messiah,  on  Broad  way,  opposite 
Waverley  Place.  Dr.  Osgood  succeeded  Dr.  Dewey  in 
1849.  Re v. Henry  W.  Bellows  succeeded  Mr.  Ware  in  the 
first  church,  January  4,  1839,  and  removed  to  the  new 
edifice,  the  Church  of  the  Divine  Unity,  on  Broadway, 
in  1845,  and  removed  to  All  Souls  Church,  where  Dr. 
Bellows  now  ministers.  The  third  Unitarian  Church, 
under  Rev.  0.  B.  Frothingham,  was  erected  on  Fortieth 
Street  within  a  few  years,  after  he  had  preached  some 
time  in  a  hall.  He  represents  the  more  radical  portion 
of  the  Unitarian  body,  while  Dr.  Bellows  represents 
more  the  old  denominational  faith. 

DR.    OSGOOD    AS   A    THEOLOGIAN. 

While  Dr.  Osgood  represents  the  Unitarian  faith,  as 
held  by  Charming  and  his  associates,  he  has  perhaps 
more  of  what  is  called  the  Broad  Church  spirit,  and  is 
less  inclined  to  sectarian  aggression,  having  always 
retained  much  of  the  moderate  temper  of  his  early 
pastor  and  teacher,  President  Walker.  He  is  on  friend- 
ly terms  with  our  leading  clergy  of  other  denomina- 
tions, and  has  exchanged  with  Methodist  and  Uni- 
versalist  ministers. 

Dr.  Osgood  was  born  in  the  town  of  Charlestown, 
Massachusetts,  in  1812.  In  August,  1837,  he  was 
ordained  over  the  Congregational  Church  in  Nashua, 
New  Hampshire.  He  had  there  a  very  successful 
ministry.  He  was  called  to  the  Westminster  Church, 
at  Providence,  Rhode  Island  ;  whence  he  removed  to 
the  Church  of  the  Messiah  in  this  city.  As  a  writer  he 
has  been  prominent.  He  holds  a  ready  pen,  and  writes 
with  great  force  and  elegance.  In  1836  he  edited  the 


IN  NEW  YORK.  577 

"Western  Messenger,  at  Louisville,  Kentucky.  From 
1850  to  1852  he  edited  the  Christian  Inquirer,  in  this 
city.  He  has  been  a  very  valuable  contributor  to  the 
Christian  Examiner,  and  to  the  Bibliotheca,  and  other 
quarterlies.  His  autobiography,  entitled,  "  Mile  Stones 
on  Life's  Journey,"  has  had  a  very  wide  circulation. 
In  1858,  before  the  students  of  Meadville  Seminary,  he 
gave  his  celebrated  oration  on  the  "  Coming  Church  and 
its  Clergy."  In  1860,  on  the  inauguration  of  President 
Felton,  he  gave  the  oration  before  the  Alumni  at  Har- 
vard. He  was  -  the  preacher  before  the  Ancient  and 
Honorable  Artillery  at  their  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
ninth  anniversary  in  Boston.  His  theme,  "The  Old 
Line  of  Manhood,  and  the  New,"  was  handled  with 
masterly  ability.  He  also  published  a  volume  of  essays, 
and  many  discourses  and  papers.  For  eighteen  years 
he  has  written  a  series  of  vacation  letters  in  the  sum- 
mer, from  Plainfield,  Connecticut,  where  he  has  a 
beautiful  estate,  which  is  made  to  combine  literature 
and  religion  with  landscape  and  art. 

Dr.  Osgood  is  somewhat  of  a  Churchman  in  his  feel- 
ings. He  has  an  evening  service,  with  chants  and 
responses,  much  like  the  old  church  vespers.  He  has 
never,  however,  read  prayer,  except  in  the  Sunday 
school  and  in  certain  ordinances.  He  keeps  up  the 
old  Puritan  usage  of  free  prayer.  This  movement  for 
a  more  responsive  service,  that  he  favors,  has  now  wide- 
ly extended  itself.  The  American  Unitarian  Associa=- 
tion  are  now  publishing  an  extensive  hymn  book  and 
liturgy  in  one  volume.  Dr.  Osgood  is  very  laborious 
in  his  parish.  His  pastoral  visits  are  numerous.  He 
preaches  twice  on  the  Sabbath,  gives  an  address  to  the 
37 


578  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Sunday  school  every  Sunday  afternoon,  and  conducts  a 
large  Bible  class.  His  theology  is  very  much  of  the 
liberal  evangelical  school  of  Germany.  The  late  Kichard 
Eothe  is  his  favorite  author. 

DR.    OSGOOD    IN   THE   PULPIT. 

He  wears  the  silk  gown  without  the  bands.  He 
comes  in  from  his  vestry,  and  assumes  his  duties  with 
great  reverence,  answering  well  Cowper's  description 
of  the  pastor,  who,  conscious  of  his  awful  charge,  is 
anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds  should  feel  it  too. 
In  his  preaching  he  dwells  much  on  the  divine  nature 
of  Christ,  and  presents  the  gospel  less  as  a  system  of 
ethics,  and  more  as  a  communication  of  divine  life,  than 
is  common  with  Unitarian  preachers.  In  his  mind 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  actual  Mediator  between  God  and 
man,  not  only  by  the  historical  world,  but  by  the  per- 
petual spirit,  and  in  him  we  find  our  true  union  to  the 
Father.  He  keeps  affectionate  and  fraternal  relations 
with  the  Unitarian  body,  and  takes  the  name,  but 
never  calls  himself  anti-Trinitarian.  His  Unitarianism 
consists  in  affirming  the  spirits  of  God,  and  his  un- 
willingness to  ascribe  to  them  any  plurality  of  persons, 
while  he  accepts  the  great  manifestation  of  the  one  God, 
as  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.  He  quotes  with  favor  Dr. 
Dorner's  definition  of  the  Godhead,  which  affirms  that 
"  God  is  one  absolute  personality  in  three  modes  of 
being."  He  showed  his  Broad  Church  affinities  by 
putting  a  volume  of  S.  W.  Robertson's  sermons  with 
one  of  Dr.  Channing's  under  the  corner  stone  of  his 
new  church. 

He  has  always  taken  a  decided  patriotic  stand  in  the 


IN  NEW   YORK.  579 

pulpit.  Although  not  a  preacher  of  party  politics, 
when  the  war  broke  out  he  had  the  children  of  the 
Sunday  school  sing  the  Star-spangled  Banner  on  the 
church  steps  while  the  flag  was  hoisted  upon  the 
church  tower.  He  has  always  held  Dr.  Channing's  anti- 
slavery  views,  and  affirmed  the  wrong  of  slavery,  yet 
deprecated  insurrection  and  bloodshed  on  the  part  of 
agitators,  until  the  slave  power  made  war  upon  our 
northern  freedom.  Since  the  war  he  has  favored  kind- 
ly yet  decided  measures  of  reconstruction,  such  as  shall 
secure  the  liberty  of  the  freedman,  and  in  due  time 
restore  all  the  seceding  states.  In  his  Thanksgiving 
sermon,  November  28,  1867,  he  urged  the  people  to 
repeat  the  administration  of  Washington,  and  call  to 
the  chair  of  Washington  the  bold  and  sagacious  soldier 
who  had  borne  the  sword  and  upheld  the  flag  of  the 
father  of  his  country. 

Dr.  Osgood  mingles  freely  in  social  affairs,  especially 
literary  and  public,  and  speaks  often  in  their  behalf. 
He  is  an  impressive  speaker,  and  secures  rapt  atten- 
tion, whether  in  the  pulpit  or  on  the  platform.  He  has 
practised  extempore  speaking  from  his  boyhood,  and  is 
master  of  the  art. 

THE   NEW    CHURCH. 

In  1849,  when  Dr.  Osgood  took  charge  of  the  Church 
of  the  Messiah,  it  was  located  far  up  town.  It  was  sur- 
rounded entirely  with  magnificent  dwellings,  and  was  in 
the  aristocratic  part  of  our  city.  Nearly  all  the  wealthy 
and  eminent  men  lived  in  that  neighborhood.  A 
volcanic  eruption  would  not  have  devastated  that  por- 
tion of  the  city  more  thoroughly,  as  far  as  dwellings 
are  concerned,  than  have  trade,  hotels,  and  boarding- 


580  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

houses.  The  Church  of  the  Messiah  was  emptied.  It 
was  simply  a  question  whether  the  pastor  should  fol- 
low his  flock  or  abandon  his  ministry.  Eligible  lots 
were  obtained  on  Fourth  Avenue  and  Thirty-fourth 
Street.  On  it  the  society  has  erected  a  church,  which, 
for  solidity,  elegance,  and  completeness,  has  not  been 
exceeded  by  any  church  edifice  in  New  York.  It  is  in 
the  Rhenish  style,  and  Byzantine  Gothic.  It  is  very 
churchly.  The  pulpit  is  unique,  and  embodies  the  altar 
and  the  cross.  Every  portion  of  the  church  is  sym- 
bolical of  the  Messiah.  His  words  are  engraven  on  the 
arches  and  placed  on  the  capitals.  The  portico  is  in  a 
style  of  peculiar  richness,  and  is  adorned  from  designs 
wholly  original,  and  taken  from  nature,  expressive  of 
charity,  piety,  beneficence,  innocence,  and  love.  The 
huge  cross  of  stone  which  is  placed  on  the  side  of  the 
building,  running  from  the  wall  beyond  the  eaves,  is 
a  very  impressive  symbol.  The  house  will  seat  about 
twelve  hundred,  and  cost  about  two  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  The  congregation  is  one  of  the  richest  in  New 
York.  Dr.  Osgood's  taste  would  lead  to  a  less  sumptu- 
ous edifice.  But  his  people  feel  that  they  are  entitled 
to  one  of  the  best  houses  of  worship  in  the  land,  and 
so  the  present  costly  structure  takes  its  place  among 
the  public  religious  institutions  of  New  York. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  581 


LXXL 
BISHOP    ONDERDONK. 

WHEN  I  first  became  acquainted  with  Bishop  Onder- 
donk,  he  was  under  the  ban  of  his  peers.  He  had  been 
tried  for  alleged  immoralities,  and  suspended  as  a 
bishop  and  as  a  priest.  He  was  not  allowed  to  officiate 
or  to  preach.  He  was  decidedly  the  ablest  man  that 
has  ruled  the  see  of  New  York  for  many  generations. 
In  personal  appearance  he  resembled  Napoleon  the 
First,  of  which  fact  he  was  quite  proud.  He  was  ele- 
vated to  his  position  as  bishop  from  the  honorable  post 
of  assistant  minister  to  Trinity.  He  assumed  the  mitre 
in  troublesome  times.  What  is  now  known  as  Ritual- 
ism was  making  havoc  in  the  church  —  candles  were 
placed  on  the  altar  in  the  day  time  ;  worshippers  bowed 
at  the  name  of  the  Savior ;  the  priest  turned  his  back 
on  the  congregation,  and  preached  in  the  white  surplice 
rather  than  in  the  black  gown.  Symbols  of  popery,  as 
they  were  called,  were  introduced  into  many  churches. 
Over  these  innovations  Bishop  Onderdonk  threw  the 
protection  of  his  official  position.  The  hot  contest 
culminated  in  the  ordination  of  Andrew  Carey.  His 
church  notions  wrere  so  extreme  that  he  was  accounted 
more  of  a  Catholic  than  a  Protestant.  Against  the 


582  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

protest  of  many  presbyters  and  laymen,  the  bishop  de- 
cided to  ordain  Mr.  Carey.  While  the  services  were 
in  progress,  two  rectors,  belonging  to  this  city,  left  their 
pews,  and  walked  up  the  aisles  to  the  chancel,  and 
openly  protested  against  the  admission  of  Carey  into 
the  church  by  ordination.  This  public  protest  created 
the  wildest  excitement  in  the  congregation.  The 
bishop  pronounced  the  objections  frivolous,  and  pro- 
ceeded with  the  service.  His  friends  declare  that  the 
persecutions  which  ended  in  his  suspension  originated 
with  the  Carey  ordination. 

Besides  being  High  Church,  Bishop  Onderdonk  had 
great  executive  ability,  and  ruled  the  diocese,  it  is  said, 
with  an  iron  hand.  In  the  midst  of  the  excitement 
created  by  the  Carey  ordination,  the  Episcopal  Conven- 
tion of  the  state  came  together.  It  was  composed  of 
churchmen  high  and  low.  The  session  was  one  long 
to  be  remembered.  Men  were  too  heated  and  excited 
for  calm  discussion.  The  bishop's  rulings  were  sharp, 
and  on  more  than  one  instance  he  shut  off  debate,  as 
some  thought,  unfairly.  Judge  Duer,  of  the  Superior 
Court,  was  in  that  convention.  He  was  one  of  the 
ablest  judges  in  the  state,  and  a  very  influential  mem- 
ber of  the  Episcopal  Church.  He  was  not  friendly  to 
the  bishop,  and  the  bishop  knew  it.  He  arose  to  ad- 
dress the  convention.  The  bishop  refused  to  hear  him, 
and  ordered  him  to  his  seat.  He  was  not  accustomed 
to  such  peremptory  commands,  and  he  insisted  upon 
his  right  to  the  floor.  The  bishop  thundered  out,  "Sit 
down,  sir !  sit  down ! "  To  this  imperious  command 
the  judge  submitted.  The  convention  was  greatly  ex- 
cited, and  all  knew  the  matter  would  not  end  there. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  583 

Within  a  year  from  that  hour  the  bishop  was  silenced, 
and  the  ban  was  never  removed. 

The  diocese  of  New  York  always  believed  their 
bishop  to  be  a  martyr.  Had  their  voice  been  heeded, 
he  would  never  have  been  silenced.  To  the  day  of  his 
death  he  was  their  bishop,  and  he  was  de  facto  the 
bishop  of  New  York.  He  lived  in  the  Episcopal  resi- 
dence. His  salary  was  paid  by  the  standing  committee, 
and  paid  first,  before  the  assistant  bishop  could  draw 
his  pay. 

The  bishop  regarded  his  trial  and  sentence  as  a 
punishment  for  his  official  acts,  which  he  performed  in 
good  conscience.  He  thought  the  sentence  unjust,  but 
bowed  to  it  with  great  meekness.  During  the  long 
term  of  his  suspension,  the  quiet  and  patient  spirit  that 
he  exhibited  —  under  what  he  conceived  to  be  his 
wrongs  —  won  the  admiration  of  strangers,  though  it 
failed  to  touch  the  hearts  of  his  brethren.  The  bitter- 
ness of  his  foes  followed  him  to  the  tomb.  On  receiv- 
ing his  sentence,  he  withdrew  at  once  from  public  gaze 
and  from  public  life.  He  selected  Dr.  Seabury's  church 
as  his  home,  for  the  doctor  had  been  his  life-long  friend. 
In  this  church  Carey  had  been  ordained,  and  was  made 
assistant  minister.  All  the  honors  and  attentions  that 
could  be  lavished  upon  the  bishop  by  the  Church  of 
the  Annunciation  were  paid  to  him.  He  attended  the 
daily  service  of  the  church  as  well  as  the  Sunday. 
It  was  a  touching  sight  on  communion  days  to  se.e 
this  aged  man  leave  his  pew  alone,  and  lead  in  the 
communion,  as  became  his  rank,  —  his  form,  bent 
with  sorrow  rather  than  age,  his  step  slow  and 


584  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

heavy,  as  if  pressed  down  with  some  great  grief,  —  and 
so  kneel  alone  at  the  altar  to  receive  the  bread  and 
wine. 

After  his  suspension  he  seldom  left  his  house, 
except  to  attend  church.  He  withdrew  from  all 
social  and  ecclesiastical  gatherings  ;  received  indi- 
viduals who  called  upon  him,  but  entertained  no 
company.  He  seldom  rode  or  walked  in  public.  On 
the  death  of  Bishop  Wainwright,  great  efforts  were 
made  to  restore  the  bishop.  The  House  of  Bishops 
refused  the  request,  on  the  ground  that  the  bishop 
not  being  penitent,  he  could  not  be  forgiven.  He 
replied  that,  having  committed  no  wrong,  he  could 
not  confess  what  he  had  not  done.  He  .was  the 
wronged  man,  and  had  borne  the  injustice  for  fifteen 
years  without  complaint.  His  peers  judged  him 
guilty  of  contumely,  and  refused  to  lift  the  sen- 
tence. After  the  election  of  Bishop  Potter,  satisfied 
that  there  was  no  hope  that  the  ban  would  be  re- 
moved during  life,  he  sank  rapidly,  and  was  soon 
borne  to  his  burial.  Few  men  have  such  a  burial. 
His  funeral  was  attended  by  an  immense  throng. 
The  highest  honors  of  the  church  were  lavished  upon 
his  memory.  His  life-long  friend,  Dr.  Seabury, 
preached  a  funeral  sermon  —  which  was  more  a  eu- 
logy than  a  sermon  —  from  the  felicitous  text,  "He 
was  a  burning  and  a  shining  light,  and  ye  were 
willing  for  a  season  to  rejoice  in  that  light."  He 
was  the  beloved  bishop  of  Trinity  Church.  They 
caused  to  be  erected  to  his  memory  a  costly  me- 
morial in  marble,  which  adorns  the  Episcopal  Ca- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  585 

thedral.  With  a  delicate  chisel  the  artist  has  rep- 
resented a  deadly  serpent  darting  his  venomous 
fangs  at  the  bishop,  —  a  symbol  of  the  calumny 
that  drove  him  from  his  throne,  and  pursued  him 
till  he  was  laid  away  in  his  tomb. 


586  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXXIL 

AARON    BURR    AND    HIS    DUEL. 

THE  romance  of  Aaron  Burr,  by  Parton,  conveys 
about  as  correct  an  idea  of  the  man  as  the  likeness  in 
the  front  of  the  book  does  of  his  personal  appearance. 
Those  who  wish  to  know  how  Aaron  Burr  really  looked 
will  find  a  likeness  of  him  in  the  State  Library  at  Al- 
bany. It  presents  to  the  eye  the  features,  expression, 
and  general  appearance  of  Burr ;  such  as  we  should  ex- 
pect from  his  well-known  character.  At  the  time  of 
his  death,  Hamilton  resided  in  Park  Place,  near  Broad- 
way. Burr  resided  at  Richmond  Hill,  —  an  eminence 
that  could  be  distinctly  seen  from  Broadway  near 
Prince.  It  has  since  been  levelled,  and  the  lots  on 
Charlton  Street  and  Yarick  occupy  the  site  where 
Burr's  house  stood.  It  was  a  country  residence,  and 
Burr  rode  in  his  own  carriage  to  his  office.  He  was 
very  civil  to  all  parties,  and  was  on  good  terms  with 
the  boys  in  the  neighborhood,  who  opened  and  shut 
his  gate  for  him  as  he  rode  in  and  out.  Sometimes 
he  would  throw  them  a  few  pence  as  a  reward.  One 
who  knew  Burr  well,  played  on  his  grounds  by  his 
permission,  opened  and  shut  his  gate,  held  his  horse, 
and  performed  other  boyish  service,  is  now  a  man, 


IN  NEW    YORK.  587 

and  one  of  the  most  respected  members  of  the  Dutch 
Church.  He  says  that  he  saw  Burr  daily  for  some 
time  before  he  fought  the  duel  in  which  Hamilton 
fell.  His  conduct  was  so  strange  as  to  attract  atten- 
tion. Daily  Burr  visited  a  part  of  his  grounds,  pistol 
in  hand.  Walking  among  the  trees,  he  would  pace 
off  a  given  distance,  mutter  something  to  himself, 
turn,  and  fire  at  a  tree.  He  was  practising  for  his 
duel.  After  the  death  of  General  Hamilton,  this  fact 
being  known,  it  deepened  the  belief  that  Burr  intended 
to  kill  Hamilton.  It  intensified  the  indignation  against 
him,  and  made  New  York  too  hot  to  hold  him. 

There  are  few  memorials  of  Burr  remaining  in  this 
city.  The  Manhattan  Bank  —  one  of  the  strongest  and 
most  profitable,  a  close  corporation  with  a  perpetual 
charter,  which  asks  no  favors,  which  has  never  sus- 
pended specie  payment  —  is  a  monument  of  Burr's 
adroitness  and  perfidy.  He  carried  the  charter  through 
the  legislature,  and  gained  for  the  bank  one  of  the 
most  valuable  franchises  ever  granted  by  the  state ; 
and  he  did  it  by  the  insertion  of  a  single  clause  which 
hid  the  real  purpose  of  the  charter. 

Almost  side  by  side,  in  the  vicinity  of  Central  Park, 
stand  the  country  seat  of  Hamilton  and  the  later  resi- 
dence of  Burr.  On  a  commanding  eminence  stands 
the  mansion  of  Mme.  Jumel.  At  the  age  of  seventy- 
eight  Burr  wooed  and  won  the  wealthy  widow.  In 
her  mansion  he  passed  a  brief  honeymoon  ;  squandered 
her  fortune  ;  made  her  jealous  by  his  gallantries ; 
quarrelled  with  her,  and  left  her,  never  to  return.  He 
closed  his  eventful  life  on  Staten  Island.  He  lay  sick, 
helpless,  and  deserted.  But  for  the  woman  with  whom 


588  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

his  connections  were  equivocal,  who  had  compassion 
upon  him,  and  rescued  him  from  want,  his  end  would 
have  been  miserable  indeed.  Old,  destitute,  and  for- 
saken, he  would  have  died  without  a  friend.  Just 
before  he  closed  his  eyes,  Burr  said  of  her,  "  You  can  say, 
6  She  gave  the  old  man  a  home  when  nobody  eke  would ! ' : 


IN  NEW   YORK.  589 


LXXIII. 

REV.    DR.    JOHN     BOWLING     OF    THE 

BAPTIST    CHUR:CH. 


FIRST   BAPTIST    CHURCH.  —  REV.    DR.  BOWLING. — HIS   EARLY   LIFE. — IN   NEW 
YORK.  —  PERSONAL. 

FIRST   BAPTIST    CHURCH. 

As  early  as  1709,  persons  holding  Baptist  views  met 
for  worship  in  New  York.  At  that  time  a  Rev.  Mr. 
Wickendon  preached  in  a  private  house.  He  was 
arrested  by  the  authorities,  ostensibly  for  preaching 
without  a  license  from  the  crown,  but  really  for  at- 
tacking infant  baptism  and  the  unholy  connection  of 
church  and  state.  He  was  confined  in  prison  three 
months.  In  1745  a  meeting  of  Baptists  was  held  in 
a  private  house,  and  Rev.  Mr.  Miller  baptized  a  few 
converts.  The  ordinance  of  baptism  was  administered 
in  the  night,  through  fear  of  a  mob.  Both  the  preach- 
ing and  ordinances  of  the  Baptists  were  attended  with 
much  peril.  Considering  it  cowardly  to  immerse  in 
the  night,  the  little  company  appealed  to  the  governor 
for  protection.  He  not  only  granted  it,  but  attended 
the  ordinance,  and  stated  his  conviction  that  "  im- 
mersion was  the  ancient  mode."  In  June,  1762,  the 


590  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

First  Baptist  Church  was  recognized.  Rev.  John  Gano 
was  chosen  pastor.  He  held  that  position,  with  great 
acceptance,  for  twenty-six  years.  From  so  feeble  a 
beginning  the  large  number  of  Baptist  churches  in 
New  York  had  their  origin. 

REV.    DE.    DOWLING. 

For  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century,  Dr.  Dowling  has 
been  pastor  of  the  Berean  Baptist  Church.  He  is  a 
man  of  commanding  stature,  of  imposing  personal  ap- 
pearance, and  is  head  and  shoulders  taller  than  his 
brethren.  He  is  one  of  the  best  pulpit  orators  in  the 
denomination.  He  has  a  fine  head,  a  voice  strong  and 
melodious,  an  impressive  earnestness  of  manner  that 
fixes  attention,  with  a  great  flow  of  language.  He 
draws  large  congregations  wherever  he  preaches.  His 
church,  over  which  he  has  so  long  been  a  pastor,  is 
situated  in  one  of  the  most  undesirable  locations  in 
New  York ;  yet  his  house  is  always  full,  and  his  Sun- 
day school  is  one  of  the  best.  He  prepares  his  sermons 
with  great  care,  but  does  not  read  them.  Great  re- 
vivals have  attended  his  ministry  wherever  he  has 
been  settled.  He  is  a  laborious  student.  There  are 
peculiar  freshness  and  vigor  about  his  performances. 
Few  men  have  written  as  much  or  as  elaborately  as 
Dr.  Dowling.  During  the  rage  of  Millerism,  in  1843, 
he  wrote  one  of  the  most  popular  and  able  books 
against  that  delusion.  His  defence  of  the  Protestant 
Scriptures,  which  was  very  favorably  reviewed,  had  a 
wide  circulation.  His  great  work  on  the  History  of 
Romanism  is  a  monument  of  industry  and  learning  —  a 
mine  of  wealth,  and  perfectly  exhaustive  of  the  subject. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  591 

HIS  EARLY  LIFE. 

Dr.  Bowling  was  born  on  the  sea-coast  of  Sussex, 
England,  in  May,  1807.  His  home  was  near  the  spot 
where  William  the  Conqueror  landed,  and  where  he, 
in  his  celebrated  battle  of  Hastings,  drove  the  last  Saxon 
king  from  the  English  throne.  His  parents  were  devout 
members  of  the  Established  Church.  He  was  converted 
at  sixteen,  and  accounting  his  infant  baptism  of  no  avail, 
he  sought  baptism  by  immersion  at  the  hands  of  Rev. 
Joseph  Ivirney,  and  united  with  the  Eagle  Street  Bap- 
tist Church,  London.  He  commenced  preaching  Christ 
in  and  around  the  city,  and  frequently  in  Baptist  pul- 
pits. 

IN   NEW    YORK. 

Dr.  Dowling  came  to  this  country  in  1832.  He  was 
ordained  to  the  Baptist  ministry  on  the  Hudson  River. 
Soon  after,  he  removed  to  Newport,  and  preached  to 
the  Second  Baptist  Church  with  great  success.  In 
1839  he  became  pastor  of  the  Pine  Street  Baptist 
Church,  Providence,  where  his  ministry  was  attended 
by  extensive  and  powerful  revivals.  In  1844  he  was 
called  to  his  present  charge,  where  he  has  labored  with 
great  results,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  years  which 
he  spent  with  the  Sansom  Street  Church  in  Philadelphia. 
He  was  recalled  to  his  old  charge  with  great  unanimity, 
and  has  continued  a  vigorous  congregation  from  1856 
to  the  present  time. 

PERSONAL. 

Besides  the  works  referred  to,  of  a  controversial  char- 
acter, Dr.  Dowling  has  published  a  large  number  of  de- 
votional and  literary  works,  with  occasional  sermons 


592  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

and  addresses.  His  "  Judson  Offering,"  written  mainly 
by  himself,  had  a  large  circulation.  His  "  Power  of  Il- 
lustration, as  an  Element  of  Success  in  Preaching  and 
Teaching,"  is  a  text-book,  and  one  of  the  most  popular 
in  the  language ;  while  his  "  Night  and  Morning,  or 
Words  of  Comfort  to  those  who  are  Sowing  in  Tears," 
has  been  blessed  to  thousands  in  seasons  of  revivals. 
Dr.  Bowling  is  a  man  of  catholic  spirit,  and  a  warm  and 
genial  friend.  He  exhibits  in  his  own  preaching  the 
element  of  illustration  as  an  element  of  success.  His 
theme  is  the  Cross,  and  he  allows  nothing  to  intervene 
between  the  Savior  and  the  sinner.  He  is  earnest  in 
delivery,  impressive,  interesting,  and  diversified  in  his 
manner  of  presenting  divine  truth.  The  fruits  are  seen 
in  his  long  and  successful  pastorate. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  593 


LXXIV. 

PHINEAS    TAYLOR    BARNUM. 

BIS  EARLY  CAREER.  —  MR.  BARNUM  AS  A  PUBLIC  CATERER.  —  THE  THEORY  OP 
SUCCESS.  —  REVERSES.  — PERSONAL.  —  FAILURE  AND  SUCCESS. 

MR.  BARNUM  is  one  of  our  most  remarkable  men. 
He  is  a  resident  of  the  city  of  New  York.  He  lives 
among  the  millionnaires,  in  a  costly  brown-stone  house 
on  Fifth  Avenue,  corner  of  Thirty-ninth  Street,  and  is  a 
millionnaire  himself.  He  has  retired  from  the  details 
of  active  life,  though  he  has  the  controlling  interest  in 
the  Barnum  and  Van  Ambtirgh  Museum.  'He  has  made 
and  lost  several  fortunes,  but  in  the  evening  of  his  life 
he  is  in  possession  of  wealth,  which  he  expends  with 
great  liberality  and  a  genial  hospitality.  He  is  fifty- 
seven  years  of  age?  of  temperate  habits  and  prudent 
life,  which  insure  him  many  years  more  of  vigorpus 
manhood. 

HIS    EARLY   CAREER. 

He  was  born  in  Bethel,  Connecticut,  and  was  trained 
in  a  village  tavern  kept  by  his  father.  He  had  a  hope- 
ful, buoyant  disposition,  and  was  distinguished  by  his 
irrepressible  love  of  fun.  At  the  age  of  thirteen  he 
began  life  for  himself,  and  married  when  he  was  nine- 
teen. As  editor  of  the  Herald  of  Freedom  he  obtained 
38 


594  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

a  world-wide  notoriety.  The  sheet  was  distinguished 
for  its  pith  and  vigor.  Owing  to  some  sharp  comments 
on  officials,  Mr.  Barnum  was  incarcerated  in  jail,  as  his 
friends  thought,  unjustly.  On  the  day  of  his  liberation, 
his  friends  assembled  in  great  force,  with  carriages, 
bands  of  music,  and  banners,  and  escorted  him  in  tri- 
umph to  his  home. 

MR.    BARNUM   AS    A   PUBLIC    CATERER. 

Mr.  Barnum's  first  appearance  as  an  exhibitor  was  in 
connection  with  an  old  negress  named  Joyce  Heth,  the 
alleged  nurse  of  George  Washington.  His  next  attempt 
was  to  obtain  possession  of  Scudder's  American  Mu- 
seum. Barnum  had  not  five  dollars  in  the  world.  He 
did  not  pay  one  dollar  down.  The  concern  was  little 
better  than  a  corpse  ready  for  burial.  Yet  he  bound 
himself  by  terms  fearfully  stringent,  and  met  all  the 
conditions  as  they  matured.  He  secured  the  person  of 
Charles  S.  Stratton,  the  celebrated  dwarf,  known  as 
General  Tom  Thumb,  and  exhibited  him  with  astound- 
ing success.  He  secured  the  services  of  Jenny  Lind, 
binding  himself  to  pay  her  a  thousand  dollars  per  night 
for  a  hundred  and  fifty  nights,  assuming  all  expenses 
of  every  kind.  The  contract  proved  an  immense  pe- 
cuniary success.  From  the  days  of  Joyce  Heth  to  the 
present  time  Mr.  Barnum  has  always  had  some  special- 
ity connected  with  his  shows,  which  the  world  pro- 
nounces humbugs,  and  Mr.  Barnum  does  not  deny  that 
they  are  so.  Among  these  are  the  Woolly  Horse,  the 
Buffalo  Hunt,  the  Ploughing  Elephant,  the  Fegee  Mer- 
maid, the  What-Is-It,  and  the  Gorilla.  But  Mr.  Barnum 
claims,  that  while  these  special  features  may  not  be  all 


IN  NEW  YORK.  595 

that  the  public  expect,  every  visitor  to  his  exhibition 
gets  the  worth  of  his  money  ten  times  over ;  that  his 
million  curiosities  and  monstrosities,  giants  and  dwarfs, 
his  menagerie  and  dramatic  entertainments,  present  a 
diversified  and  immense  amount  of  amusement  that 
cannot  be  secured  anywhere  else.  A  large-sized  ba- 
boon has  been  recently  on  exhibition  at  the  Museum. 
It  was  advertised  as  a  living  gorilla,  the  only  specimen 
ever  brought  to  this  country.  Mr.  Barnum's  agents 
succeeded  in  hoodwinking  the  press  to  such  a  degree 
that  the  respectable  dailies  described  the  ferocity  of 
this  formidable  gorilla,  whose  rage  was  represented  to 
be  so  intense,  and  his  strength  so  fearful,  that  he  came 
near  tearing  the  persons  in  pieces  who  had  brought 
him  from  the  ship  to  the  Museum.  Barnum  had  not 
seen  the  animal,  and  when  he  read  the  account  in  the 
Post  he  was  very  much  excited,  and  wrote  immediately 
to  his  men  to  be  very  careful  that  no  one  was  harmed. 
The  baboon  was  about  as  ferocious  as  a  small-sized 
kitten.  The  story  did  its  work,  and  crowds  came  to 
see  the  wonderful  beast.  Among  others  a  professor 
came  from  the  Smithsonian  Institute.  He  examined  the 
animal,  and  then  desired  to  see  Mr.  Barnum.  He  in- 
formed the  proprietor  that  he  had  read  the  wonderful 
accounts  of  the  gorilla,  and  had  come  to  see  him.  "  He 
is  a  very  fine  specimen  of  a  baboon,"  said  the  professor, 
"  but  he  is  no  gorilla."  "  What's  the  reason  that  he  is 
not  a  gorilla?"  said  Barnum.  The  professor  replied, 
that  gorillas  had  no  tail.  "  I  know,"  said  the  showman, 
"  that  ordinary  gorillas  have  no  tails,  but  mine  has,  and 
that  makes  the  specimen  more  remarkable."  The 
audacity  of  the  reply  completely  overwhelmed  the 


596  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

professor,  and  he  retired  without  a  word,  leaving  Mr. 
Barnuni  in  possession  of  the  field. 

THE   THEORY    OF   SUCCESS. 

Mr.  Barnum's  rule  has  been  to  give  all  who  patronize 
him  the  worth  of  their  money,  without  being  particular 
as  to  the  means  by  which  he  attracts  the  crowd  to  his 
exhibitions.  He  justifies  his  little  deceit  in  securing 
the  visitor  a  greater  amount  of  pleasure  than  he  bar- 
gained for.  Thus  Warren  sent  an  agent  to  Egypt  to 
write  on  the  Pyramids,  in  huge  letters,  "Buy  Warren's 
Blacking."  He  knew  the  whole  world  would  be  indig- 
nant, but  they  would  buy  his  blacking.  When  Genin, 
the  hatter,  gave  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars 
for  the  Jenny  Lind  ticket,  all  the  world  knew  that 
Genin  sold  hats  in  New  York.  Barnum  offered  the 
Atlantic  Telegraph  Company  five  thousand  dollars  for 
the  privilege  of  sending  the  first  twenty  words  over 
to  his  Museum.  The  notoriety  would  be  worth  more 
than  that  sum.  Leonard  Gossling  came  out  as  Mons. 
Gossling,  with  French  blacking.  He  drove  a  fine  car- 
riage through  New  York,  drawn  by  a  splendid  span  of 
blood  bays,  with  "  Gossling's  Blacking  "  emblazoned  in 
gold  letters  on  it.  Gossling  drove  the  team,  attended 
by  a  band  of  music.  Jim  Crow  Rice  introduced  the 
blacking  into  Bowery  Theatre,  and  was  paid  for  singing 
an  original  blacking  ditty.  As  Warren's  blacking  was 
good,  as  Genin's  hats  were  first-class,  and  Gossling's 
blacking  an  excellent  article,  and  they  never  befooled 
the  public  to  its  injury,  no  harm  was  done.  On  this 
principle  Mr.  Barnum  has  catered  to  public  amusement 
for  over  thirty  years.  He  has  gotten  up  baby-shows, 


IN  NEW   YORK.  597 

poultry-shows,  and  dog-shows.  He  has  ransacked  crea- 
tion for  curiosities,  and  all  the  world  has  contributed 
to  the  novelty  and  value  of  his  Museum. 

REVERSES. 

It  has  not  been  all  sunshine  with  Mr.  Barnum. 
His  imposing  villa  at  Bridgeport  was  burned  to  the 
ground.  Anxious  to  build  up  East  Bridgeport,  he  be- 
came responsible  to  a  manufacturing  company,  and  his 
fortune  was  swept  away  in  an  hour.  The  citizens  of 
Bridgeport,  without  distinction  of  party  or  sect,  assem- 
bled and  expressed  their  sympathy  with  Mr.  Barnum 
in  his  great  embarrassment,  and  in  "  his  irretrievable 
ruin,"  as  they  thought.  But  with  wonderful  sagacity 
he  relieved  himself.  Asa  business  man  he  has  singular 
executive  force  and  great  capacity,  and  would  have 
been  successful  in  anything  he  undertook. 

PERSONAL. 

Mr.  Barnum  has  held  many  positions  of  trust  and 
honor.  He  was  elected  president  of  the  Crystal  Palace 
Exhibition  in  1854.  He  was  appointed  by  the  gover- 
nor of  Connecticut  State  Commissioner  to  the  Grand 
Exposition  at  Paris.  He  was  elected  to  represent  the 
town  of  Fairfield  in  the  legislature  of  Connecticut  in 
1865  and  1866.  He  was  defeated  for  Congress  in  1867, 
owing  to  the  reaction  which  commenced  in  Northern 
States  in  regard  to  negro  suffrage.  Mr.  Barnum  has 
been  a  great  friend  to  the  temperance  cause,  and  one 
of  the  most  racy  and  eloquent  of  its  advocates.  He 
has  a  clear,  flowing  style,  full  of  anecdote  and  points, 
which  always  draws  crowds,  and  secures  continued 


598  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

interest.  He  lectures  for  benevolent  and  philanthropic 
audiences,  giving  away  the  entire  proceeds.  He  was 
an  influential  speaker  while  a  member  of  the  legis- 
lature, being  always  distinguished  for  his  practical 
good  sense  and  sparkling  wit.  He  received  a  telegram 
one  day  while  he  was  speaking,  announcing  that  the 
Museum  was  on  fire,  and  that  nothing  probably  would 
be  saved.  He  laid  the  telegram  on  the  desk,  and 
finished  his  speech.  He  went  to  New  York  the  next 
day,  and  found  the  Museum  a  pile  of  black,  smouldering 
ruins.  All  that  was  left  was  the  lease  of  the  land,  hav- 
ing eleven  years  to  run.  This  lease  was  sold  to  James 
Gordon  Bennett  for  two  hundred  thousand  dollars,  cash. 

FAILURE    AND1  SUCCESS. 

Men  who  regard  Mr.  Barnum  as  a  charlatan ;  who 
attribute  his  success  to  what  he  calls  "  humbug,"  "  clap- 
trap," "  exaggerated  pictures,"  and  "  puffing  advertise- 
ments ; "  who  undertake  to  imitate  him  in  these  ques- 
tionable performances,  will  find  that  the  secret  of  his 
success  does  not  lie  in  that  direction.  A  wealthy  man, 
after  repeated  reverses,  he  is.  Whether  he  would  not 
have  been  as  rich  without  the  "  clap-trap,"  whether  the 
titles  "  humbug,"  and  the  "  prince  of  humbugs,"  which 
were  first  applied  to  him  by  himself  as  a  part  of  his 
stock  in  trade,  have  not  damaged  beyond  redemption 
his  social  status,  are  questions  which  I  will  not  stop 
here  to  argue.  But  under  all  the  eccentricity,  jug- 
glery, and  tomfoolery,  there  was  a  business  intelligence, 
tact,  energy,  indomitable  perseverance,  shrewdness,  and 
industry,  without  which  all  his  humbugging  would 
have  been  exerted  in  vain.  From  distributing  "  Sears's 


IN   NEW   YORK.  599 

Bible  "  he  became  lessee  of  the  Vauxhall  saloon  ;  thence 
a  writer  of  advertisements  for  an  amphitheatre,  at  four 
dollars  a  week  ;  then  negotiating,  without  a  dollar,  for 
the  Museum,  giving  the  proprietor  what  he  asked,  a 
piece  of  unencumbered  land,  as  security,  a  mere  morass, 
kept  in  the  family  because  it  was  worthless,  and  nobody 
would  buy  it ;  outwitting  a  corporation  who  intended  to 
outwit  him  on  the  purchase  of  the  Museum  over  his 
head  ;  exhibiting  a  manufactured  mermaid,  which  he 
had  bought  of  a  Boston  showman;  palming  off  Tom 
Thumb  as  eleven  years  of  age,  when  he  was  but  five ; 
showing  his  wroolly  horse,  and  exhibiting  his  wild 
buffaloes  at  Hoboken  ;  —  these,  and  other  smart  things 
that  Barnum  did,  are  well  known  to  the  public.  But 
there  are  other  things  which  the  public  do  not  know. 
Barnum  was  thoroughly  honest,  and  he  kept  his  busi- 
ness engagements  to  "the  letter.  He  cheated  the 
proprietor  of  the  Museum  in  the  matter  of  the  security. 
The  impression  he  left  about  "  Ivy  Island  "  was,  that  it 
was  a  valuable  farm  in  Connecticut,  while  it  was  a 
mere  bog.  On  it  he  could  not  have  raised  five  dollars 
in  the  New  York  market,  where  its  value  was  known. 
But  without  that  deception  he  would  have  lost  the 
Museum,  he  argues.  He  kept  his  business  engagement 
to  the  letter,  as  he  intended  to  do,  so  his  deception  did 
not  harm.  Once  in  the  Museum,  he  taxed  every  energy 
to  the  utmost  to  secure  success.  He  adopted  the  most 
rigid  economy.  Finding  a  hearty  coadjutor  in  his  wife, 
he  put  his  family  on  a  short  allowance,  and  shared  him- 
self in  the  economy  of  the  household.  Six  hundred 
dollars  a  year  he  allowed  for  the  expenses  of  his  family, 
and  his  wife  resolutely  resolved  to  reduce  that  sum  to 


600  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

four  hundred  dollars.  Six  months  after  the  purchase 
of  the  Museum  the  owner  came  into  the  ticket  office  at 
noon.  Barnum  was  eating  his  frugal  dinner,  which 
was  spread  before  him.  "  Is  this  the  way  you  eat  your 
dinner  ?  "  the  proprietor  inquired.  Barnum  said,  "  I 
have  not  eaten  a  warm  dinner  since  I  bought  the 
Museum  except  on  the  Sabbath,  and  I  intend  never  to 
eat  another  on  a  week  day  until  I  am  out  of  debt." 
"  Ah  !  you  are  safe,  and  will  pay  for  the  Museum  before 
the  year  is  out,"  replied  the  owner.  In  less  than  a 
year  the  Museum  was  paid  for  out  of  the  profits  of  the 
establishment. 

Barnum  deceived  in  regard  to  the  age  of  Tom  Thumb, 
but  his  performances  were  genuine.  The  mermaid  was 
a  cheat,  but  the  show  at  the  Museum  presented  more 
for  the  money  than  any  exhibition  in  the  country. 
During  the  whole  of  his  career^  Barnum  has  exhibited 
a  conscientiousness  that  borders  closely  on  high  reli- 
gious principle.  His  extravagances  were  the  mere 
froth  of  the  bottle ;  the  article  beneath  the  foaming 
cover  was  genuine  and  stout.  He  believed  in  adver- 
tising, but  knew  well  enough  that  it  was  money  thrown 
away  if  he  had  not  something  to  show.  He  staked 
everything  he  had  in  the  world  on  his  contract  with 
Jenny  Lind.  He  based  his  expectation  of  success,  not 
on  her  voice  simply,  nor  on  her  reputation  as  an  artist, 
but  her  character  for  extraordinary  benevolence  and 
generosity, —  these  he  knew  would  captivate  the  Amer- 
ican public. 

To  say  that  he  failed,  and  lost  several  fortunes,  is 
only  to  say  that  he  was  human.  His  confidence  in  the 
clock  company  was  extraordinary.  It  grew  out  of  the 


IN   NEW   YORK.  601 

impulses  of  his  generous  and  confiding  nature,  and  his 
desire  to  aid  his  friends  in  building  up  a  part  of  Bridge- 
port, and  make  the  town  prosperous.  But  the  manner 
in  which  he  relieved  himself  from  these  obligations  and 
retrieved  his  fortune,  exhibits  the  pluck,  shrewdness, 
and  business  ability  of  the  man.  That  he  was  shame- 
fully and  wickedly  defrauded  no  one  has  any  question. 
He  did  not  owe  a  dollar  of  personal  debt,  and  he 
resolved  not  to  pay  the  clock  notes.  He  considered 
any  strategy  fair  to  elude  their  payments,  and  free 
himself  from  the  pecuniary  obligation  they  imposed. 
He  put  all  his  property  out  of  his  hands;  sold  his 
Museum  —  over  the  left ;  came  to  New  York,  and 
commenced  "keeping  boarders."  He  lived  from  hand 
to  mouth;  was  arrested  continually  on  suits,  and  brought 
up  before  the  judges  for  examination,  all  which  were 
duly  chronicled  in  the  paper.  Clock  notes  were  at  a 
discount.  It  was  said  that  Barnum  had  gone  under  so 
deep  that  he  never  would  recover.  The  paper  on  which 
his  name  wras  placed  was  considered  fit  for  the  waste- 
basket  or  the  stove.  The  notes  were  bought  for  a  song 
and  cancelled.  When  the  last  clock  note  was  paid 
Barnum  was  himself  again. 

To  relieve  a  friend,  he  went  into  court  and  offered 
himself  as  bail  for  the  sum  of  five  thousand  dollars.  It 
was  a  libel  suit.  Three  of  them  were  pending,  and  in 
all  of  them  Mr.  Barnum  offered  himself  as  security. 
The  lawyer,  desiring  to  imprison  the  defendant,  was 
both  vexed  and  impertinent.  He  put  the  showman 
through  a  course  of  examination.  "Mr.  Barnum,  are 
you  worth  fifteen  thousand  dollars  ?  "  "I  am,"  was  the 
reply.  "  I  desire  a  list  of  your  property  before  you 


602  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

are  accepted  as  further  security,"  the  lawyer  said.  So 
Barn  urn  began  to  call  off  the  articles  of  property  that 
he  valued  at  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  requesting  the 
lawyer  to  keep  an  accurate  inventory.  "  One  preserved 
elephant,  one  thousand  dollars ;  one  stuffed  monkey- 
skin,  and  two  gander-skins,  good  as  new  —  fifteen  dol- 
lars for  the  lot."  Starting  to  his  feet  in  indignation,  the 
lawyer  cried  out,  "  Mr.  Barnum,  what  are  you  doing?" 
"  I  am  giving  you  an  inventory  of  my  Museum.  It 
contains  only  fifty  thousand  different  articles,  which  I 
intend  to  call  offj  and  which  I  wish  you  to  take  down." 
The  limb  of  the  law  appealed  to  the  court.  Judge 
Ulshoeffer  decided  that  if  the  lawyer  was  unwilling  to 
take  Mr.  Barnum's  affidavit  to  his  responsibility  he 
must  go  on  with  the  catalogue.  The  lawyer  decided  to 
take  him  for  bail  without  a  further  bill  of  particulars. 

There  are  no  better  rules  for  business  success  than 
those  laid  down  by  Mr.  Barnum,  which  have  guided  his 
own  course.  Among  them  are  these :  "  Select  the  kind 
of  business  suited  to  your  inclination  and  temperament ; 
let  your  pledged  word  ever  be  sacred ;  whatever  you 
do,  do  with  all  your  might ;  use  no  description  of  in- 
toxicating drinks ;  let  hope  predominate,  but  do  not  be 
visionary ;  pursue  one  thing  at  a  time,  but  do  not  scatter 
your  powers ;  engage  proper  assistance ;  advertise  your 
business ;  live  within  your  income,  if  you  almost  starve  ; 
depend  upon  yourself,  and  not  upon  others." 

Besides  his  town  residence,  he  has  a  superb  estate  in 
Fairfield,  Connecticut,  which  is  called  Lindencroft. 
Here  he  dispenses  an  elegant  hospitality,  and  dwells 
in  the  confidence  and  esteem  of  his  fellow-citizens  in 
his  native  state.  His  business  success  has  hardly  a 


IN  NEW  YORK.  603 

parallel.  The  revenue  books  of  the  city  reveal  the  fact 
that  the  Museum  receipts  for  1867  were  considerably 
over  four  hundred  thousand  dollars,  being  far  more 
than  those  of  any  other  place  of  amusement  in 
America,  with  only  one  exception.  The  doors  were 
open  from  sunrise  till  ten  P.  M.  A  constant  stream  of 
visitors  passed  in  and  out  all  day.  Country  visitors,  with 
valise  in  hand,  visited  the  Museum  from  sunrise  till  the 
business  hours  commenced.  Thousands  made  their  in- 
spection of  this  gallery  of  curiosities  before  they  took 
breakfast  or  visited  a  hotel. 


604  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXXY. 

ROBERT  BONNER  AND  THE  NEW 
YORK  LEDGER. 

HIS  EARLY  CAREER.  —  REMOVAL  TO  NEW  YORK.  —  AN  UPWARD  STEP. —  OWNS 
THE  LEDGER.  — HIS  SYSTEM  OF  ADVERTISING.  — STRATEGY. —  THE  VALUE 
OF  A  NAME.  —  BANCROFT  AND  MR.  EVERETT.  —  MR.  BEECHER  AND  THE 
LEDGER.  —  BONNER'S  HORSES.  — HIS  STABLES.  — PERSONAL. 

MR.  BONNER  was  born  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  not  far 
from  Londonderry,  near  the  spot  from  which  A.  T. 
Stewart  emigrated.  The  Scotch  Presbyterian  blood 
that  made  General  Jackson  so  famous,  and  has  given 
success  to  the  well-known  house  of  Brown  &  Brothers, 
runs  in  the  blood  of  Mr.  Bonner.  He  is  simply  a 
Scotchman  born  in  Ireland.  He  was  trained  under  the 
influence  of  the  Shorter  Catechism.  From  the  faith  of 
his  fathers  he  has  never  departed.  He  has  been 
trustee  for  many  years  in  a  Scotch  Presbyterian 
Church  in  the  upper  part  of  New  York,  and  a  liberal 
contributor  to  the  support  of  public  worship  and  the 
various  forms  of  benevolence  and  charity.  He  is  a 
conscientious  business  man,  with  great  resources,  with 
fertility  of  genius  unmatched,  and  with  indomitable 
will,  untiring  industry,  and  more  than  all  he  possesses 


IN  NEW  YORK.  605 

that   crowning   gift   which   Solomon   possessed  as  an 
especial  patrimony  from  God — "largeness  of  heart." 

HIS   EARLY    CAREER. 

He  was  distinguished  in  his  boyhood  for  great  manli- 
ness of  character,  for  frank  and  generous  impulses. 
When  a  boy  was  wronged  or  wrongly  accused,  it  was 
Bonner's  custom  to  make  the  quarrel  of  his  school- 
fellow his  own.  He  allowed  himself  to  be  turned  out 
of  school  for  the  part  he  took  in  defending  a  boy 
whom  he  knew  to  be  innocent.  At  an  early  age  he 
entered  the  printing  office  of  the  Hartford  Courant  to 
learn  the  art  of  printing.  He  was  dexterous,  swift  at 
setting  type,  and  led  all  the  workmen  in  the  nimble- 
ness  with  which  he  could  set  up  an  article.  The 
President's  Message,  in  those  days,  was  transmitted  by 
mail.  The  editor  of  the  Courant  purchased  an  ad- 
vanced copy,  paying  for  it  the  enormous  sum  of  thirty 
dollars !  The  only  advantage  to  be  derived  from  this 
early  copy  was  in  getting  the  message  out  in  advance 
of  other  papers.  To  accomplish  this  Mr.  Bonner  per- 
formed the  unheard-of  feat  of  setting  up  seventeen 
hundred  ems  an  hour.  He  performed  all  the  duties 
connected  with  his  position,  became  an  accomplished 
printer,  tried  his  hand  at  correspondence,  and  seated 
himself  occasionally  in  the  editorial  chair. 

REMOVAL   TO    NEW   YORK. 

In  1844  Mr.  Bonner  removed  to  the  city  of  New 
York.  There  was  a  popular  impression  that  a  literary 
paper  could  not  succeed  in  this  metropolis.  Boston 
and  Philadelphia  monopolized  the  family  newspapers 


606  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

and  literary  weeklies,  and  it  was  said  that  no  paper  of 
the  kind  could  prosper  in  this  city.  Mr.  Bonner  thought 
otherwise.  He  early  resolved  to  attempt  a  paper  that 
should  be  circulated  throughout  the  whole  land.  He 
watched  his  opportunity  and  bided  his  time,  working 
hard  in  the  mean  while,  and  not  being  dainty  in  the 
place  or  style  of  business  in  which  he  engaged.  Mayor 
Harper  had  been  elected  as  the  American  candidate. 
A  paper  called  the  "American  Republican "  was  the 
organ  of  the  party.  In  this  office  Mr.  Bonner  com- 
menced his  New  York  career.  The  wages  paid  him 
wrere  small.  His  work  was  hard,  and  economy  was 
requisite  to  enable  him  to  live.  He  formed  the  habit, 
from  which  he  has  never  departed,  of  buying  nothing 
that  he  could  not  pay  for.  He  never  borrowed  a  dol- 
lar of  money,  never  signed  a  note  in  his  life,  and  now 
carries  on  his  great  business  on  strictly  cash  principles, 
and  literally  owes  no  man  anything.  In  some  of  his 
large  enterprises  he  has  paid  his  last  dollar,  and 
never  has  once  failed  in  the  venture  he  made.  In 
some  of  his  great  advertising  feats,  in  which  he  has 
paid  as  high  as  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  a  week 
for  advertising,  he  has  been  offered  lines  of  papers  to 
increase  the  advertisement  to  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
with  unlimited  credit,  and  his  answer  has  invariably 
been,  "  I  cannot  advertise  beyond  my  means.  I  have 
no  more  money  to  spend  in  that  way."  The  whole 
business  of  the  Ledger  is  conducted  on  the  same 
principle  to-day. 


IN   NEW   YORK.  607 


AN    UPWARD    STEP. 

The  "  Republican "  was  an  evanescent  affair,  and 
Mr.  Bonner  found  permanent  employment  on  the 
"  Evening  Mirror  "  as  a  practical  printer.  This  paper 
was  conducted  by  Morris,  Willis,  and  Fuller.  It  was 
Mr.  Fuller's  business  to  make  up  the  paper.  It  was 
very  desirable  to  display  the  advertisements,  and  do  it 
in  good  taste.  In  this  department  Mr.  Bonner  excelled. 
The  whole  matter  was  soon  left  in  his  hands.  He  had 
an  eye  for  beauty,  and  the  Mirror  advertisements 
became  very  famous.  There  was  a  small  mercantile 
paper  in  New  York,  known  as  the  "  Merchant's  Ledger." 
It  was  devoted  almost  entirely  to  commercial  matters, 
with  a  very  limited  circulation.  A  young  man,  whose 
business  it  was  to  get  up  advertisements,  was  struck 
with  the  elegant -manner  in  which  Mr.  Bonner  made 
up  the  Mirror.  He  called  the  attention  of  the  editor 
of  the  Ledger  to  Mr.  Bonner's  capacity,  and  this 
culminated  in  an  engagement  with  Mr.  Bonner  to 
become  the  printer  of  that  paper.  Mr.  Bonner  did  not 
own  the  material,  but  simply  printed  the  sheet.  He 
occasionally  wrote  articles  that  attracted  attention, 
from  their  terse,  compact,  and  spicy  composition.  A 
little  incident  showed  Mr.  Bonner  the  value  of  a  name. 
His  contributions  to  the  Ledger  were  very  well  re- 
ceived. The  proprietor  had  a  spice  of  jealousy  about 
him,  and  he  did  not  want  his  energetic  and  spirited 
printer  to  get  into  the  editorial  chair.  Mr.  Bonner 
wrote  a  short,  pithy  article  on  a  popular  subject, 
jammed  it  into  a  little  nook  in  the  paper,  and  placed 
at  the  bottom  the  name  of  Dr.  Chalmers.  It  took  like 


608  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

wildfire.  It  was  copied  into  all  the  prominent  papers 
of  the  land.  It  taught  Mr.  Bonner  the  value  of  a 
name,  —  a  lesson  he  has  never  forgotten. 

OWNS    THE   LEDGER. 

Shortly  after  he  entered  the  office,  Mr.  Bonner  pur- 
chased the  Ledger.  He  seated  himself  in  the  editorial 
chair,  and  resolved  to  realize  the  visions  of  his  youth. 
He  did  not  change  its  character  at  once,  but  gradually. 
The  Ledger  became  less  and  less  commercial,  and  more 
and  more  literary.  About  this  time  Fanny  Fern  was 
creating  a  great  sensation  in  the  literary  world.  Her 
Ruth  Hall  had  just  appeared,  and  the  work  and  its  au- 
thoress were  criticised  by  the  press  in  all  parts  of  the 
land.  She  was  the  literary  star  of  the  day.  The  ques- 
tion was  violently  discussed  whether  she  was  or  was 
not  the  sister  of  N.  P.  Willis.  Mr.  Bonner  saw  his  op- 
portunity, and  sent  a  note  to  Fanny  Fern,  offering  her 
twenty-five  dollars  a  column  to  write  a  story  for  the 
Ledger.  She  declined  the  offer.  Another  proposition 
was  sent,  offering  her  fifty  dollars  a  column.  That  she 
also  declined.  Seventy-five  dollars  were  offered.  That 
she  declined,  announcing  that  she  did  not  intend  to 
write  any  more  for  the  newspapers.  She  admitted  that 
she  admired  Mr.  Bonner's  pluck.  Soon  it  was  inti- 
mated to  Mr.  Bonner  that  if  he  would  allow  Fanny 
Fern  to  write  a  story  of  ten  columns,  more  or  less, 
though  the  story  should  not  occupy  less  than  nine 
columns  of  the  Ledger,  she  would  undertake  it.  He 
closed  the  contract  immediately,  received  the  manu- 
script, read  six  lines,  and  sent  her  a  check  of  one  thou- 
sand dollars.  He  resolved,  with  this  story,  to  introduce 


IN  NEW  YORK.  609 

a  new  era  in  the  Ledger.  He  changed  the  form  of  the 
paper,  double-leaded  the  story,  so  that  it  made  twenty 
columns  in  the  paper.  He  advertised  it  as  nothing 
was  ever  advertised  before.  He  had  paid  an  unheard- 
of  sum  for  a  story  —  one  hundred  dollars  a  column. 
The  harvest  was  a  golden  one.  Out  of  the  profits  of 
that  story  Mr.  Bonner  purchased  the  pleasant  residence 
in  this  city  in  which  he  still  lives. 

HIS    SYSTEM    OF   ADVERTISING. 

In  the  magnitude  of  his  advertising  Mr.  Bonner  has 
displayed  the  remarkable  business  skill  for  which  he  is 
celebrated.  The  manner  of  commending  the  Ledger  to 
the  public  is  wholly  his  own.  When  he  startled  the 
public  by  his  extravagance  in  taking  columns  of  a  daily 
journal,  or  one  entire  side,  he  secured  the  end  he  had 
in  view.  His  method  of  repeating  three  or  four  lines, 
such  as,  —  "  Fanny  Fern  writes  only  for  the  Ledger  " — 
or,  "Read  Mrs.  South  worth's  new  story  in  the  Ledger" 
—  and. this  repeated  over  and  over  and  over  again,  till 
men  turned  from  it  in  disgust,  and  did  not  conceal 
their  ill-temper,  was  a  system  of  itself.  u  What  is  the 
use,"  said  a  man  to  Mr.  Bonner,  "  of  your  taking  the 
whole  side  of  the  Herald,  and  repeating  that  statement 
a  thousand  times  ?  "  "  Would  you  have  asked  me  that 
question,"  replied  Mr.  Bonner,  "  if  I  had  inserted  it  but 
once  ?  I  put  it  in  to  attract  your  attention,  and  make 
you  ask  that  question." 

Mr.   Bonner  knows  how  to  reach  the  public.     He 

pays   liberally,  but  intends  to  have  the  worth  of  his 

money.      He   does   not   advertise   twice   alike.      The 

newspapers  are  afraid  of  him.     His  advertisements  are 

39 


610  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

so  queer  and  unusual,  that  when  they  make  a  contract 
with  him,  they  have  no  idea  in  what  shape  the  ad- 
vertisement will  come.  Sometimes  it  is  in  the  shape 
of  a  fragment  of  a  story ;  sometimes  the  page  will  be 
nearly  blank,  with  two  or  three  little  items  in  it.  In 
his  peculiar  style  of  advertising  he  often  gives  great 
trouble  to  the  editors  of  the  leading  papers.  Some- 
times *an  entire  page  is  almost  blank.  Sometimes  a 
few  small  advertisements  occupy  the  corner,  giving  the 
sheet  a  peculiar  appearance,  which  attracts  attention. 
Said  an  editor,  "  I  had  rather  publish  one  of  your 
horses  in  the  centre  than  have  such  a  looking  sheet." 
But  Mr.  Bonner's  purpose  was  answered  by  one  inser- 
tion, and  the  contract  was  withdrawn. 

With  a  manliness  and  liberality  peculiar  to  Mr. 
Bonner,  after  one  insertion,  if  the  parties  are  dis- 
satisfied, he  always  throws  up  the  contract,  however 
beneficial  it  might  have  proved  to  him. 

STRATEGY. 

His  mode  of  advertising  was  new,  and  it  excited 
both  astonishment  and  ridicule.  His  ruin  was  predicted 
over  and  over  again.  But  as  he  paid  as  he  went  along 
he  alone  would  be  the  sufferer.  He  was  assailed  in 
various  ways.  Men  sneered  at  his  writers,  as  well  as 
at  the  method  in  which  he  made  them  known.  He 
had  no  competition.  Just  then  it  was  announced  that 
the  Harpers  were  to  put  a  first-class  Weekly  into  the 
field.  The  announcement  was  hailed  with  delight  by 
many  classes.  Men  who  had  been  predicting  Bonner's 
ruin  from  the  start  were  anxious  to  see  it  accomplished. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  611 

He  had  agents  in  all  the  leading  cities  in  the  land. 
These  held  a  monopoly  of  the  Ledger.  The  book-men 
and  newspaper-men,  who  were  left  out,  were  quite 
willing  to  have  the  Ledger  go  under.  The  respecta- 
bility and  wealth  of  the  house,  its  enterprise,  with  the 
class  of  writers  it  could  secure,  made  the  new  paper  a 
dangerous  rival.  Mr.  Bonner  concluded  to  make  the 
first  issue  serviceable  to  himself.  His  paragraph  adver- 
tising was  considered  sensational,  and  smacking  of  the 
charlatan.  He  resolved  to  make  it  respectable.  He 
wrote  a  half  a  column  in  sensational  style  — • "  Buy 
Harper's  Weekly  "  —  "Buy  Harper's  Weekly"  —"Buy 
Harper's  Weekly  "  —  "  Buy  Harper's  Weekly  "  —  and 
so  on  through  the  half  column.  Through  his  advertis- 
ing agent  he  sent  this  advertisement  to  the  Herald, 
Tribune,  and  Times,  and  paid  for  its  insertion.  Among 
the  astonished  readers  of  this  Ledger  style  of  advertis- 
ing were  the  quiet  gentlemen  who  do  business  on 
Franklin  Square.  The  community  were  astonished. 
"  The  Harpers  are  waking  up  !  "  "  This  is  the  Bonner 
style  ! "  "  This  is  the  way  the  Ledger  man  does  it !  " 
were  heard  on  all  sides.  The  young  Harpers  were 
congratulated  by  the  book-men  everywhere  on  the 
enterprise  with  which  they  were  pushing  the  new 
publication.  They  said  nothing,  and  took  the  joke  in 
good  part.  But  it  settled  the  respectability  of  the 
Ledger  style  of  advertising.  It  is  now  imitated  by  the 
leading  publishers,  insurance  men,  and  most  eminent 
dry  goods  men  in  the  country.  The  sums  spent  by 
Mr.  BonnSr  in  advertising  are  perfectly  marvellous. 
He  never  advertises  unless  he  has  something  new  to 
present  to  the  public.  He  pays  from  five  to  twenty- 


612  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

five  thousand  dollars  a  week  when  he  advertises. 
The  enormous  circulation  of  the  Ledger,  —  over  three 
hundred  thousand  copies  a  week, — shows  how  profitable 
his  style  of  doing  business  is.  Nearly  everything  he 
does,  every  horse  he  buys,  or  new  personal  movement 
that  distinguishes  him,  is  set  down  to  a  desire  on  his 
part  for  gratuitous  advertising.  Of  course  he  has  an 
eye  to  business  in  whatever  he  does.  But  all  the  ad- 
vertising he  wants  he  is  quite  ready  to  pay  for. 

• 

THE   VALUE    OF   A    NAME. 

The  popularity  given  to  a  little  squib  of  his  own,  to 
which  the  name  of  Dr.  Chalmers  was  attached,  taught 
Mr.  Bonner  a  lesson  that  he  never  forgot.  Mr.  Edward 
Everett  had  taken  upon  himself  to  aid  the  ladies  of 
America  in  purchasing  Mount  Yernon.  Mr.  Bonner 
resolved  to  secure  Mr.  Everett  as  a  writer  for  the 
Ledger.  He  knew  that  money  could  not  purchase  Mr. 
Everett's  connection  with  his  paper.  He  offered  Mr. 
Everett  ten  thousand  dollars  to  write  a  series  of  arti- 
cles for  the  Ledger,  the  money  to  be  appropriated  to 
the  purchase  of  the  tomb  of  the  father  of  his  country. 
Mr.  Everett  could  do  no  less  than  accept.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  the  Mount  Yernon  papers  Mr.  Everett  con- 
tinued on  the  Ledger  until  his  death.  Mr.  Bonner 
paid  him  over  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  services 
rendered  on  his  paper.  The  notices  to  correspondents, 
which  is  a  marked  feature  in  the  Ledger,  contain 
answers  to  questions  sent  to  the  editor.  Not  more 
than  one  question  in  five  is  replied  to.  Those  answers 
are  written  by  the  most  eminent  men  in  the  country. 
Many  of  them  were  written  by  Mr.  Everett,  Henry 


IN   NEW    YORK.  613 

i 

Ward  Beecher,  and  distinguished  statesmen  and  lawyers. 
The  connection  between  Mr.  Bonner  and  Mr.  Everett 
was  of  the  most  delicate  and  tender  character,  as  Mr. 
Everett's  confidential  letters  sufficiently  show. 

It  was  Mr.  Bonner's  policy  to  spike  every  gun  that 
could  be  aimed  against  him,  and  make  every  influence 
and  every  prominent  man  his  ally.  To  this  end  James 
Gordon  Bennett  of  the  Herald,  Henry  J.  Raymond  of 
the  Times,  and  Horace  Greeley  of  the  Tribune,  became 
contributors  to  the  Ledger. 

The  Ledger  was  objected  to  in  some  quarters  as  not 
being  a  suitable  sheet  for  young  persons  to  read.  Mr. 
Bonner  secured  the  services  of  the  presidents  of  twelve 
of  the  principal  colleges  in  -this  country  to  write  for 
his  paper.  Of  course  it  would  not  be  improper  for  the 
young  men  in  colleges  to  take  a  paper  for  which  the 
president  wrote.  Indeed,  over  the  purity  of  expression 
and  chasteness  of  sentiment  and  utterance  in  what  ap- 
pears in  the  Ledger,  Mr.  Bonner  exercises  a  rigorous 
censorship.  There  are  a  great  many  articles  and  ad- 
vertisements that  appear  in  religious  papers  that  would 
not  be  admitted  into  the  Ledger.  Mr.  Bonner  gives 
this  order :  "  Take  the  most  pious  old  lady  in  a  Presby- 
terian Church,  and  any  word  or  phrase,  innuendo  or  ex- 
pression, that  she  would  want  to  skip  if  she  were  reading 
a  Ledger  story  to  her  grandchild,  strike  out." 

Paul  Morphy,  in  the  height  of  his  popularity,  edited 
a  chess  column  in  the  Ledger.  Bryant,  Willis,  Hal- 
leek,  Morris,  and  Saxe  laid  a  poetical  wreath  at  Mr. 
Bonner's  feet.  Prentice,  Bancroft,  Parton,  and  Coz- 
zens  joined  the  galaxy  of  Ledger  writers.  Fanny 
Fern,  Mrs.  Southworth,  and  other  eminent  novelists, 


614  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

furnished    the    entertaining   serials   published  by  Mr. 
Bonner. 

BANCROFT   AND    MR.    EVERETT. 

On  the  death  of  Mr.  Everett,  Mr.  Bonner  enclosed  a 
check  to  Mr.  Bancroft,  with  a  note  requesting  him  to 
prepare  a  suitable  article  for  the  Ledger  in  commemo- 
ration of  the  distinguished  statesman.  The  article  was 
prepared  and  sent  to  Mr.  Bonner.  It  contained  no 
allusion  to  Mr.  Everett's  connection  with  the  Ledger. 
The  article  was  sent  back,  and  the  omission  pointed 
out.  A  sharp  correspondence  followed,  in  which  Mr. 
Bancroft  attempted  to  establish  the  propriety  of  the 
omission.  Mr.  Bonner  refused  to  receive  the  article, 
and  he  finally  carried  his  point,  and  Mr.  Everett's 
connection  with  the  Ledger  had  a  marked  place  in 
the  eulogistic  article. 

MR.  BEECHER  AND  THE  LEDGER. 

For  a  long  time  Mr.  Beecher  has  been  a  contributor 
to  the  Ledger.  One  evening  Mr.  Bonner  and  his  wife 
went  over  to  Plymouth  Church  to  hear  the  pastor. 
The  sermon  was  on  success  in  life,  and  was  given  in 
Mr.  Beecher's  most  vigorous  strain.  He  showed  that 
smartness,  cuteness,  and  adroitness  would  not  lead  to 
success  unless  they  were  combined  with  energy,  a 
knowledge  of  business,  an  indomitable  perseverance, 
and  an  integrity  which  would  enable  a  man  to  dare  to 
do  right.  If  Mr.  Beecher  had  intended  to  hit  Mr.  Bon- 
ner's  character  and  success,  he  could  not  have  come 
nearer  to  the  mark.  Mr.  Bonner  had  lacked  not  one 
of  the  elements  Mr.  Beecher  had  described,  and  every 
one  knew  his  success.  This  sermon  affected  Mr.  Bon- 


IN  NEW   YORK.  615 

ner  in  various  ways.  He  was  in  search  of  a  novelty 
that  should  captivate  and  profit  the  public.  Why 
should  not  Mr.  Beecher  talk  to  a  million  of  people 
through  the  Ledger,  as  well  as  to  speak  to  a  single 
congregation  within  the  walls  of  his  house  ?  His  ac- 
quaintance with  men  had  been  large.  His  wit  and 
fancy  were  exuberant,  and  if  he  would  write  a  story 
for  the  Ledger  he  might  preach  in  it  as  much  as  he 
pleased,  put  money  in  his  purse,  and  benefit  the  youth 
of  the  country. 

While  Mr.  Beecher  was  attending  a  council  in  his 
own  church,  a  letter  was  put  into  his  hands.  He  had 
had  no  conversation  with  Mr.  Bonner  about  writing  a 
story.  The  letter  contained  a  proposal  that  Mr. 
Beecher  should  write  a  serial  for  the  Ledger,  and 
named  the  price  which  would  be  paid  for  it,  which  was 
perfectly  astounding.  "  Miracles  will  never  cease," 
said  Mr.  Beecher,  in  his  note  replying  to  the  proposal. 
Norwood  appeared,  and  the  increased  circulation  of 
the  Ledger  immediately  reimbursed  Mr.  Bonner  for 
his  extraordinary  outlay.  The  story  was  longer  than 
was  expected,  and  an  addition  was  made  to  the  price 
agreed  upon.  In  this  way  the  editor  of  the  Ledger 
treats  all  his  first-class  writers.  He  is  generous  in  his 
proposals,  and  does  more  than  he  agrees. 

BONNER'S  HORSES. 

When  a  printing  boy,  Bonner's  rule  was  to  be  the 
first  boy  in  the  office.  When  he  was  a  printer,  he 
allowed  no  one  to  excel  him  in  the  swiftness  with 
which  he  set  type,  and  in  his  ability  as  a  workman. 
Wlien  he  purchased  the  Ledger  he  intended  to  make 


616  SUNSHINE   AND  SHADOW 

it  the  foremost  paper  in  the  country.  He  resolved  to 
own  the  most  celebrated  and  fastest  horses  in  the 
world.  And  his  stud,  which  are  kept  in  his  stables  on 
Twenty-seventh  Street,  are  without  rivals.  His  horses 
are  seven  in  number.  "  Lantern  "  is  a  bay,  fifteen  and 
ft  half  hands  high,  with  long  tail,  mild,  clear  eye,  white 
hind  feet,  and  white  streak  on  his  face.  He  is  very 
fleet,  having  made  a  mile  in  2.20.  "  Peerless  "  is  a  gray 
mare,  about  fifteen  and  a  half  hands  high,  with  a  long 
white  tail,  clean  limbed,  and  gentle.  She  has  made  the 
fastest  time  on  record  to  a  wagon,  trotting  her  mile  in 
2.231.  She  is  so  gentle  that  she  is  used  in  the  country 
by  the  ladies  of  Mr.  Bonner's  family.  "  Flatbush  Mare  " 
is  a  double  teamster,  and  with  "  Lady  Palmer,"  in  double 
harness,  has  made  the  fastest  time  ever  trotted  in  a 
two  mile  heat  to  a  road  wagon, —  5.01J.  She  is  fifteen 
and  a  half  hands  high.  The  other  is  a  chestnut  sorrel, 
about  the  same  size.  She  has  a  fine  head,  and  is  very 
symmetrical.  Besides  her  famous  time  with  "  Flatbush 
Mare,"  she  has  trotted  two  miles,  to  a  three  hundred 
and  sixteen  pound  wagon  and  driver,  in  4.59, —  the 
greatest  feat  of  the  kind  ever  performed.  "  Pocahontas" 
is  the  handsomest  trotter  and  the  most  perfectly  formed 
horse  in  the  world.  She  stands  about  fifteen  hands,  is 
a  dark,  rich  bay,  has  a  very  fine  head,  proudly-arched 
nostrils,  and  a  tail  sweeping  the  ground  for  four  inches, 
on  which  she  frequently  treads  while  standing.  When 
six  years  old  this  splendid  animal  trotted  in  2.23,  and 
has  made  better  time  since  she  came  into  Mr.  Bonner's 
hands.  The  "  Auburn  Horse  "  is  sorrel,  and  of  enor- 
mous size,  being  sixteen  and  a  half  hands,  with  four 
white  feet  and  white  face,  pronounced  by  Hirarn 


IN   NEW   YORK.  617 

Woodruff  to  be  the  fastest  horse  he  ever  drove.  The 
champion  of  the  turf  is  "  Dexter,"  with  sinewy  form, 
and  joints  like  a  greyhound,  compactly  built,  dark 
brown  in  color,  with  four  white  feet,  and  a  white  nose 
and  streak,  a  bright  clear  eye,  and  a  flowing  tail.  He 
has  made  a  mile  in  2.17i  in  harness,  and  2.18  to 
saddle.  The,  turf  annals  of  the  world  present  no 
parallel  to  this.  Mr.  Bonner  buys  his  horses  for  his 
own  pleasure.  He  drives  them  himself,  and  is  one  of 
the  best  horsemen  in  the  country.  He  will  not  allow 
his  horses  to  be  used  for  show  or  for  gain.  He  races 
with  nobody,  and  bets  with  nobody.  If  any  team 
can  make  faster  time  than  his,  driven  by  the  owner, 
ten  thousand  dollars  are  deposited,  and  that  owner 
may  apply  that  sum  to  any  benevolent  cause  that  he 
pleases.  Millionnaires  gnash  their  teeth  as  Bonner 
drives  by  them.  There  are  horsemen  in  New  York  who 
would  give  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  for  a  pair  of 
horses  that  would  make  Bonner  take  their  dust.  If 
Bonner's  team  is  beaten,  the  owner  must  do  as  he  does, 
drive  it  himself.  Of  the  speed  of  his.horses  he  is  his 
own  judge.  He  will  buy  anything  that  will  beat  the 
world.  When  a  horse  is  presented  to  him  for  trial,  he 
appears  in  full  riding  costume,  with  gloves,  whip,  and 
watch  in  hand.  He  does  not  allow  the  owner  to 
handle  the  ribbons. 

HIS   STABLES. 

Mr.  Bonner's  stables  are  located  on  Twenty-seventh 
Street.  The  building  is  a  plain  brick  one,  with  every- 
thing for  convenience  and  comfort,  and  nothing  for 
show.  The  front  part  contains  the  carriage-house,  har- 


618  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

ness-room,  wash-house,  and  the  place  where  the  feed  is 
mixed.  In  the  rear  are  the  stables.  Dexter  and 
Peerless  have  box-stalls,  and  are  never  tied.  The  other 
horses  are  in  ordinary  stalls.  Three  persons  are  em- 
ployed constantly  to  take  care  of  the  horses.  Within 
the  enclosure,  but  outside  of  the  stables,  is  a  track 
covered  with  tan  bark,  on  which  the  horses  are  daily 
exercised,  one  hour  in  the  morning  and  in  the  evening. 
The  horses  are  fed  four  times  a  day,  at  six,  nine,  one, 
and  nine  at  night.  A  small  allowance  of  hay  is  given 
once  a  day.  After  eating  they  are  muzzled,  to  prevent 
them  from  devouring  their  bedding,  and  they  are  kept 
muzzled  all  night.  In  the  winter  Mr.  Bonner  drives 
but  one  horse  at  a  time,  and  usually  the  Auburn  Horse. 
Dexter  and  the  other  fleet  horses  are  seldom  used  in 
the  winter,  but  are  reserved  for  fast  trotting  in  the 
spring.  Great  care  is  taken  of  the  feet  of  the  horses. 
To  this  Mr.  Bonner  gives  personal  attention.  He  has 
mastered  the  subject,  as  he  has  newspaper  business. 
He  has  a  theory  of  his  own,  which  has  proved  eminent- 
ly successful  in  the  treatment  of  his  own  horses,  and 
has  enabled  him  to  remove  the  lameness  from  the 
valuable  horses  of  his  neighbors  and  friends.  The  idea 
that  the  speed  to  which  these  horses  are  put  is  a 
damage  to  them  'is  as  fallacious  as  it  is  to  assert  that  it 
hurts  an  eight-mile-an-hour  horse  to  drive  him  at  that 
speed.  Some  of  these  fast  horses  Mr.  Bonner  has 
owned  many  years.  They  are  faster  now  than  when 
he  bought  them.  Lantern  is  nineteen  years  old,  and  is 
as  sound  and  fleet  as  when  he  was  ten.  The  men  who 
have  charge  of  these  horses  are  as  careful  and  tender 
of  them  as  is  a  kind  nurse  of  a  child.  In  the  stable 


IN  NEW  YORK.  619 

there  is  every  convenience  imaginable  that  a  horse  can 
require,  —  tools  for  fitting  shoes,  grooming  the  animals, 
making  the  wagons  safe,  with  medicines,  and  all  the 
appliances  of  a  first-class  stable.  The  horses  are  said  to 
have  cost  Mr.  Bonner  over  two  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars. They  could"  not  be  bought  for  double  that  sum. 

PERSONAL. 

There  is  a  frank,  hearty  manliness  about  Mr.  Bonner 
which  binds  his  friends  to  him.  The  eminent  men 
who  have  written  for  his  paper  form  attachments  to 
him  that  death  only  severs.  Mr.  Everett  conceived  a 
warm  and  glowing  regard  for  him  that  was  foreign  to 
his  cold  nature.  His  manuscript  oration  on  Washing- 
ton, elegantly  bound,  he  sent  as  a  token  of  his  personal 
regard  to  the  editor  of  the  Ledger.  Mr.  Bonner's  office 
is  a  curiosity.  It  is  a  workshop,  plainly  furnished.  His 
table  is  loaded  down  with  letters,  manuscripts,  and  doc- 
uments. What  is  confusion  to  others  is  order  to  him. 
The  system  with  which  he  conducts  his  business  is  per- 
fect. Any  letter  that  he  wants,  or  any  number  of 
the  Ledger  containing  a  given  article,  is  produced  at 
once.  No  man  attends  more  closely  to  his  business,  or 
spends  more  hours  in  his  office.  Nothing  goes  into  the 
Ledger  without  his  supervision;  and  the  sharp,  crisp 
editorials,  always  compact,  and  often  keen  as  a  two- 
edged  sword,  are  from  his  own  pen.  His  office  is 
adorned  with  likenesses  of  his  prominent  contributors 
and  his  celebrated  horses.  Horseshoes,  and  the  para- 
phernalia of  fast  driving,  lie  around.  He  has  made  the 
horse  his  study  for  years,  and  has  a  better  knowledge 
of  a  horse's  foot  than  any  surgeon  in  the  world.  Mr. 


620  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

Bonner  is  in  the  prime  of  life.  He  is  short,  thick-set, 
and  compactly  built.  His  hair  is  sandy,  his  complexion 
florid,  his  forehead  high  and  intellectual,  his  eye 
piercing,  and  his  whole  manner  frank,  genial,  and 
buoyant.  He  does  nothing  for  show.  He  lives  com- 
fortably, but  without  ostentation,  in  a  plain  brick  house. 
His  wagons  are  in  the  usual  style,  made  substantially. 
His  country  seat,  at  Morrisania,  is  elegant  and  com- 
modious, about  which  there  is  no  tinsel  nor  dash.  He 
is  a  fine  specimen  of  what  good  principles,  excellent 
physical  culture,  perseverance,  and  industry  can  do  for 
a  man.  The  position  he  now  occupies  he  looked  to 
when  he  was  a  printer's  lad  in  the  office  of  the  old 
Courant.  He  attempted  no  eccentric  things,  sought  for 
no  short  cross-paths  to  success.  Jle  mastered  his  trade 
as  a  printer  patiently  and  perfectly.  He  earned  every 
position  before  he  assumed  it,  and  earned  his  money 
before  he  spent  it.  In  New  York  he  was  preferred 
because  he  did  his  work  better  than  others.  He  was 
truthful,  sober,  honest,  and  industrious.  If  he  took  a 
job,  he  finished  it  at  the  time  and  in  the  manner  agreed 
upon.  He  borrowed  no  money,  incurred  no  debts,  and 
suffered  no  embarrassments.  In  some  of  his  great 
enterprises  he  put  up  every  dollar  that  he  had  in  the 
world.  If  he  lost,  he  alone  would  suffer ;  and  he  knew 
he  could  go  to  work  and  earn  his  living.  He  has 
never  allowed  the  Ledger  to  be  so  dependent  on  one 
man,  or  on  one  set  of  men,  that  it  could  not  go  on  suc- 
cessfully if  each  should  leave.  '  The  Ledger  is  now  the 
most  prominent  and  popular  publication  in  the  world. 
It  is  without  a  rival  in  the  ability  with  which  it  is  con- 
ducted, and  in  its  circulation.  To  the  list  of  old  writers 


IN  NEW   YORK.  621 

new  and  attractive  names  are  daily  added.  Mr. 
Bonner's  great  wealth,  which  he  has  honestly  and 
fairly  earned,  enables  him  to  command  any  attractive 
feature  for  his  paper  that  he  may  select.  Mr.  Bonner 
is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  the  age  —  the 
architect  of  his  own  fortune,  a  prompt,  straightforward, 
and  honest  business  man,  with  energy  to  push  that 
business  to  success.  A  perfect  master  of  his  calling, 
and  successful  in  everything  he  has  undertaken,  he  is 
a  worthy  model  for  the  young  men  of  America. 


622  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXXVI. 

ANDREW    V.    STOUT,    PRESIDENT    OF 
SHOE    AND    LEATHER    BANK. 

HIS  EARLY  LIFE.  —  HIS  TACT.  —  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  PUBLIC  SCHOOL.  —  A 
CRASH.  —  BUSINESS  PRINCIPLE.  —  BECOMES  A  MERCHANT.  —  HIS  CONNEC- 
TION WITH  THE  BANK.  —  PERSONAL. 

MR.  STOUT'S  career  is  a  remarkable  instance  of  busi- 
ness success.  As  a  man  of  high-toned  principle  and 
integrity,  an  honest,  careful,  and  successful  financier,  he 
has  no  superior.  There  are  few  bank  presidents  who 
have  been  in  office  as  long.  He  has  filled  many 
important  offices,  and  has  presided  over  the  Shoe  and 
Leather  Bank  for  nearly  sixteen  years.  No  one  ever 
lost  a  dollar  by  him ;  and  he  can  say,  now  that  he  has 
reached  the  age  of  fifty-five  years,  that  he  never  failed 
to  pay  a  note  at  maturity,  and  never  made  a  business 
obligation  that  he  did  not  meet  promptly  at  the  time. 

HIS    EARLY   LIFE. 

He  was  born  in  the  city  of  New  York,  at  No.  6 
Pump  Street,  better  known  to-day  as  Canal.  He  was 
thrown  on  his  own  resources  at  an  early  age.  By  in- 
dustry and  hard  study  he  acquired  a  good  English 
education.  At  twelve  years  of  age  he  not  only  took 


IN  NEW  YORK.  623 

upon  himself  his  own  support,  but  that  of  his  relatives. 
He  was  a  manly  boy,  mature  beyond  his  years,  and 
always  considered  much  older  than  he  was.  At  four- 
teen years  of  age  he  received  an  appointment  in  one 
of  the  public  schools  of  the  city,  no  one  dreaming  that 
he  was  a  mere  lad.  He  was  very  successful  as  a 
teacher,  and  at  sixteen  received  the  appointment  of 
assistant  principal  in  Shepherd  Johnson's  school,  one 
of  the  most  popular  of  the  city. 

HIS   TACT. 

Mr.  Stout  was  blessed  with  a  hopeful  disposition,  was 
full  of  pluck,  and  ambitious.  He  mastered  everything 
he  laid  his  hands  to.  He  had  a  mother  and  sister  who 
leaned  on  him  for  counsel  and  help.  He  resolutely 
formed  the  purpose  of  not  only  getting  a  living,  but 
of  making  money,  and  making  it  fairly,  guiding  all 
his  measures  by  high  moral  principle.  He  kept  a 
sharp  eye  for  every  opening,  was  not  afraid  of  the 
hardest  kind  of  work,  and  felt  justified  in  availing  him- 
self of  every  step  that  could  carry  him  higher.  He 
studied  harder  than  his  pupils,  and  what  he  did  not 
know  to-day  he  knew  to-rnorrow.  It  was  Walpole's 
theory,  that  a  man  is  competent  to  fill  any  office  that 
he  can  get.  Mr.  Stout,  without  knowing  what  Walpole 
had  said,  acted  on  that  theory.  An  opening  presented 
itself  to  him  that  illustrates  this  trait  in  his  character. 
When  he  was  sixteen  he  passed  for  twenty.  Being  an 
excellent  English  scholar,  it  was  concluded,  of  course, 
that  he  was  a  graduate.  He  was  appointed  to  take 
charge  of  a  class  in  Latin,  of  which  language  he  knew 
nothing.  But  he  wanted  the  position  and  the  emolu- 


624  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

ment.  He  accepted  the  post  without  hesitation,  and 
went  to  worl?  at  once  to  prepare  himself.  He  hired  a 
private  tutor,  passed  his  nights  in  severe  study,  and 
kept  ahead  of  his  class  in  all  the  lessons.  Sometimes 
scholars  would  bother  him  with  questions  that  he  could 
not  answer.  In  such  cases  he  raised  another  issue, 
beat  the  inquirer  off  for  the  time  being,  and  was  ready 
the  next  morning.  His  class  was  admitted  to  be  one 
of  the  best  drilled  and  thoroughly  taught  in  Latin  that 
ever  graduated  from  that  school.  Mr.  Stout  came  fresh 
to  his  scholars  every  morning,  had  the  enthusiasm  of  a 
new  beginner,  the  ambition  and  pride  of  scholarly 
repute,  and  he  made  his  class  both  learn  and  under- 
stand. 

CONNECTION    WITH    THE   PUBLIC    SCHOOL. 

At  eighteen  years  of  age  he  was  appointed  principal 
of  Public  School  No.  2  of  this  city.  He  rode  in  from 
Bushwick  every  morning,  and  devoted  the  intermission 
to  business.  For  six  years  he  rose  every  morning  at 
four  o'clock,  and  worked  in  his  garden  till  seven.  On 
his  return  from  school  he  resumed  his  work.  His  even- 
ings were  passed  in  study  and  in  business.  Not  con- 
tent with  this,  in  connection  with  a  relative  who  was  a 
builder,  he  contracted  to  erect  several  houses  on  East 
Broadway,  then  a  fashionable  locality.  In  this  he  was 
very  successful,  and  before  he  was  twenty  years  of  age 
he  was  worth  seventeen  thousand  dollars. 

A  CRASH. 

It  was  not  usual  in  those  days  to  do  business  on  the 
cash  principle.  Mr.  Stout  was  reputed  to  be  a  rich 
man.  He  minded  his  own  business  and  kept  his  own 


IN  NEW  YORK.  625 

counsel.  He  dashed  in  and  out  of  New  York,  and  was 
known  on  the  road  as  the  "  flying  man?*  His  business 
repute  was  high.  He  met  every  contract  that  he  made, 
and  took  up  all  his  paper  as  it  matured,  and  said  nothing, 
and  everybody  believed  he  was  rich.  His  moral  and 
social  characteristics  added  to  his  business  repute.  He 
was  a  decided  and  earnest  Christian.  In  the  prosperity 
of  the  little  Methodist  Church  near  him  he  took  great 
interest.  He  was  not  afraid  to  turn  his  hand  to  any- 
thing that  was  needed  to  promote  its  welfare.  He  took 
care  of  its  finances,  and  they  prospered.  No  debt  was 
allowed  to  accrue,  nobody  was  behindhand  in  pay- 
ments. At  times  Mr.  Stout  was  sexton,  pew-opener, 
trustee,  collector,  class-leader,  leader  of  the  choir,  and 
preacher.  His  note  was  good  anywhere.  It  was  not 
necessary  for  him  to  pay  a  dollar  of  money  on  the 
houses  that  he  built.  He  gave  his  notes  on  the  con- 
tracts, and  paid  them  at  maturity.  One  day  he  was 
induced  to  indorse  a  note  for  five  thousand  dollars  to 
get  money  from  the  bank.  The  indorsement  was  given 
with  reluctance,  and  with  the  understanding  that  it 
should  not  be  repeated.  To  save  that  five  thousand 
dollars,  indorsements  grew  till  they  reached  twenty- 
three  thousand  dollars.  The  builder,  whose  notes  he 
indorsed,  announced  to  Mr.  Stout  one  morning  that  he 
had  failed,  and  had  made  no  provision  for  the  paper, 
and  that  the  bank  would  look  to  him  for  payment. 

BUSINESS    PRINCIPLE. 

Several  methods  of  relief  were  open  to  Mr.  Stout. 
He  was  worth  seventeen  thousand  dollars,  which  he  had 
earned  by.  nights  of  toil,  by  economy,  and  by  daily  and 
40 


626  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

earnest  attention  to  business.  To  pay  the  notes  would 
not  only  sweep  away  every  penny  that  he  had,  but 
leave  him  six  thousand  dollars  in  debt.  He  had  never 
realized  one  cent  from  the  money,  and  his  name  was 
used  simply  to  accommodate  the  builder.  Besides,  he 
was  not  of  age,  though  nobody  suspected  that  fact,  and 
he  could  repudiate  his  debts  as  an  infant.  He  took  no 
counsel,  made  no  statement  of  his  affairs  to  any  one, 
shut  himself  up  in  his  own  room  and  considered 
thoughtfully  what  he  should  do,  and  then  followed  out 
the  decision  that  he  had  reached.  Having  become 
bankrupt  in  money,  he  concluded  he  would  not  be  in 
character.  He  had  earned  seventeen  thousand  dollars, 
and  he  could  earn  seventeen  thousand  dollars  more. 
He  did  confide  in  one  friend.  He  went  to  a  relative 
and  asked  him  to  loan  him  six  thousand  dollars,  the 
sum  necessary  to  take  up  all  the  notes.  The  relative 
was  astonished  at  the  request,  and  insisted  upon  know- 
ing the  facts  in  the  case.  Mr.  Stout  made  a  full  and 
•  frank  statement.  It  was  met  with  the  remark,  "  Well, 
Andrew,  I  thought  you  would  be  a  rich  man ;  but  if 
this  is  the  way  you  do  business,  you  will  never  be 
worth  anything."  But  Mr.  Stout  did  not  want  preach- 
ing, he  wanted  money;  and  as  the  relative  seemed  to 
hesitate  about  loaning  the  money,  as  no  security  was 
offered,  Mr.  Stout  curtly  told  him  he  could  do  as  he 
pleased  about  it ;  he  could  get  the  money  somewhere, 
and  pay  the  notes.  The  money  was  promised,  and  he 
went  on  his  way. 

The  bank  watched  the  young  financier  with  a  great 
deal  of  interest.  The  whole  matter  had  been  discussed 
often  in  the  bank;  and  the  wonder  was,  how  young 


IN  NEW  YORK.  627 

Stout  would  meet  the  blow.  It  was  supposed  that  he 
would  ask  for  an  extension ;  and  it  was  agreed  to  give 
it  to  him,  and  to  make  the  time  of  payment  convenient 
to  his  ability.  Had  he  proposed  to  compromise  the 
matter  by  paying  one  half,  the  bank  would  have 
accepted  it.  That  would  have  left  him  a  capital  of 
nearly  eight  thousand  dollars  for  a  fresh  start.  Had 
he  offered  his  seventeen  thousand  dollars,  on  condition 
that  he  was  released  from  all  liability,  the  notes  would 
have  been  cancelled  with  alacrity.  He  did  neither. 
He  proposed  no  compromise,  asked  no  extension,  and 
attempted  to  negotiate  no  settlement.  When  the  first 
note  became  due,  he  paid  it.  He  did  the  same  with  the 
second  and  third.  After  the  third  payment,  he  was 
called  into  the  office  of  the  president.  Eeference  was 
made  to  the  notes,  and  to  the  fact  that  he  had  obtained 
no  benefit  from  the  money.  The  president  told  him 
the  bank  was  ready  to  renew  the  notes,  and  to  give  him 
any  accommodation  that  he  might  ask.  Mr.  Stout 
simply  replied,  that  the  blow  was  a  heavy  one,  but 
that,  having  assumed  the  obligation,  he  should  dis- 
charge it ;  that  he  asked  no  favors,  and  as  the  notes 
matured  he  should  take  them  up.  He  paid  every  dol- 
lar due,  and  every  one  was  certain  that  his  wealth  must 
be  very  large.  His  manliness,  pluck,  and  integrity, 
which  carried  him  through  that  crisis,  became  the  sure 
foundation-stone  on  which  his  great  fortune  was  laid. 
He  took  the  front  rank  among  successful  financiers,  and 
his  honorable  course  in  that  crisis  established  his  fame 
as  an  honest  man,  in  whom  it  would  be  safe  to  confide. 
Years  of  earnest  and  active  business  life  have  not 
changed  that  character,  nor  allowed  a  blot  or  stain  to 
cloud  that  reputation. 


628  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


BECOMES   A  MERCHANT. 

In  the  department  of  dry  goods,  and  in  the  whole- 
sale boot  and  shoe  trade,  Mr.  Stout  found  his  first 
permanent  success.  He  had  great  financial  talent,  and 
with  all  his  partners  he  reserved  to  himself  the  right 
to  decide  on  credits.  He  gave  his  entire  personal 
attention  to  his  business.  Like  Stewart,  he  found  his 
recreation  in  work.  Nobody  came  so  early  that  he 
did  not  find  Mr.  Stout  at  his  post.  He  did  not  leave 
till  the  business  was  done  and  the  store  closed.  His 
hours  were  from  seven  in  the  morning  till  six  at  night. 
Four  months  in  the  year  he  worked  till  ten  and  twelve 
at  night,  and  often  till  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  yet 
would  be  at  his  post  at  seven,  as  usual.  All  who 
worked  after  six  o'clock  were  paid  double  wages.  But 
Mr.  Stout  always  remained  with  them,  no  matter  how 
late  they  worked.  If  sagacity  and  prudence,  hard 
work  and  close  attention  to  business,  high  moral  char- 
acter and  great  financial  ability,  lead  to  fortune,  then 
Mr.  Stout  must  have  accumulated  a  handsome  capital. 

HIS   CONNECTION   WITH   THE   BANK. 

An  attempt  was  made  to  get  up  a  bank  in  which  the 
shoe  and  leather  interest  should  have  a  large  representa- 
tion. In  this  movement  Mr.  Stout  was  very  active; 
and  when  the  Shoe  and  Leather  Bank  was  incorporated 
he  was  the  largest  stockholder,  became  a  director,  and 
an  influential  manager.  On  the  second  year  he  was 
made  vice-president,  and  had  really  all  the  duties  of 
the  president  to  perform.  The  third  year  he  was 
elected  president,  and  for  fourteen  years  has  had  the 


IN  NEW   YORK.  629 

management  of  that  institution.  He  has  guided  it 
with  a  financial  skill  unsurpassed,  and  the  value  of  the 
stock  shows  how  profitable  that  management  has  been. 
No  voice  is  more  potential  in  banking  matters  than 
Mr.  Stout's.  His  judgment  is  reliable  ;  he  is  far-seeing 
and  safe  in  his  measures.  He  was  city  chamberlain, 
arid  while  in  that  position  there  was  some  trouble  about 
paying  the  police.  Mr.  Stout  advanced  the  full  sum 
necessary  out  of  his  private  funds.  He  thus  relieved 
the  embarrassment  of  the  force,  and  received  a  splendid 
testimonial,  which  now  adorns  his  parlors. 

PERSONAL. 

Since  he  formed  the  resolution  to  meet  the  notes  he 
had  indorsed,  which  was  so  heavy  a  blow  to  him  in  his 
early  life,  his  career  has  been  an  upward  one.  In 
every  relation  of  life  he  has  occupied  the  front  rank. 
He  is  the  guardian  of  widows  and  orphans,  and  holds 
a  large  amount  of  trust  money,  every  one  feeling 
assured  that  funds  in  his  hands  are  safe.  His  char- 
acteristics are  promptness,  unbending  honesty,  and 
punctuality.  Not  only  has  he  never  failed  to  meet  a 
pecuniary  obligation  during  the  long  term  of  his 
financial  career,  but  he  carries  this  principle  into  the 
minutest  relations  of  life.  In  his  family  his  breakfast 
bell  rings  at  exactly  the  same  time,  and  does  not  vary 
five  minutes  in  a  year,  and  dinner  delays  for  no  one. 
He  has  been  a  church  officer  since  he  was  a  lad.  He  is 
always  on  time  at  the  smallest  meeting.  The  finances 
of  the  church  are  kept  with  the  exactness  of  a  bank. 
The  sexton,  minister,  and  all  are  paid  promptly  on  the 
time.  His  bank  board  meets  to  a  second.  The  board 


630  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

is  called  to  order  promptly  on  the  instant.  Each 
director  has  three  dollars  a  day  for  every  board  meet- 
ing. When  the  gavel  of  the  president  falls,  if  one  of  the 
directors  is  at  the  threshold  of  the  inner  door,  but  has 
not  crossed  it,  he  gets  no  pay.  In  his  family  Mr.  Stout 
is  one  of  the  most  indulgent  of  fathers.  He  is  a  genial, 
social,  and  high-toned  friend.  He  is  one  of  the  most 
entertaining  hosts,  and  a  welcome  visitor.  His  wealth, 
accumulated  by  shrewdness,  integrity,  and  toil,  he  dis- 
tributes with  great  liberality.  From  his  early  life  he 
has  identified  himself  with  religion,  humanity,  and  the 
benevolent  operations  of  the  day.  He  is  a  good  speci- 
men of  what  New  York  can  do  for  a  resolute,  manly 
boy,  who,  with  high  moral  principle,  unbending  in- 
tegrity, and  indomitable  pluck,  resolves  to  place  his 
name  among  the  successful  and  true  men  of  the  land. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  631 


LXXVII. 

JOHN    ALLEN'S     DANCE-HOUSE. 

LOCATION.  —  A    VISIT    TO    THE    DANCE-HOUSE. AN    INSIDE    VIEW.  A    TALK 

WITH    ALLEN. RELIGIOUS    SERVICES.  —  ALLEN   TS.    SATAN. 

IN  another  place  I  have  alluded  to  the  dance-cellars 
and  halls  in  Water  Street.  There  is  one  that  deserves 
special  mention.  It  is  kept  by  John  Allen,  one  of  the 
most  notorious  men  in  the  city.  He  is  well  educated, 
a  man  of  fine  presence,  below  fifty  years  of  age,  a  tall, 
slim,  wiry  fellow,  sharp  and  keen. 

LOCATION. 

I  visited  this  establishment  the  other  day.  It  is  a 
fine  brick  building,  very  large  and  capacious,  and  he 
prides  himself  upon  it  as  the  model  establishment  of 
the  city.  It  stands  like  a  palace  among  the  rookeries 
of  lower  New  York.  Allen  himself  was,  at  one  time,  a 
professedly  religious  man.  He  was  designed  for  the 
ministry,  and,  it  is  said,  was  a  student  in  the  Union 
Theological  Seminary.  He  has  brothers  in  the  ministry, 
and  his  nephews  are  educated  by  himself  for  the  sacred 
calling.  He  began  life  poor,  and  is  now  said  to  be 
worth  a  hundred  thousand  dollars. 


632  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 


A   VISIT    TO    THE   DANCE-HOUSE. 

In  company  with  a  friend,  I  made  a  visit  to  this 
dance-house,  for  the  purpose  of  a  personal  interview 
with  Allen.  He  is  very  fond  of  company,  and  is  proud 
to  have  his  establishment  visited  by  a  minister  or  a 
Christian.  My  friend  was  quite  well  acquainted  with 
Allen,  and  introduced  me.  He  immediately  seized  his 
Bible,  which  lay  on  the  counter,  surrounded  by  half  a 
dozen  religious  newspapers,  garnished  with  decanters 
and  glasses.  He  is  a  tonguey  man,  and  argued  for  half 
an  hour,  intermingling  with  his  religious  conversation 
the  obscene  and  peculiar  phraseology  by  which  his 
establishment  is  kept  up ;  shouting  to  the  jaded  and 
lagging  girls  to  keep  to  their  work ;  heaping  impreca- 
tions, invectives,  and  curses  upon  them,  and  all  the 
while  holding  to  the  thread  of  his  argument. 

AN   INSIDE   VIEW. 

About  twenty  girls  make  up  the  establishment. 
They  are  dressed  in  a  uniform  peculiar  to  themselves. 
They  wear  flashy  costumes,  scarlet  and  other  gay 
colors,  short  dresses,  red  topped  boots,  with  bells 
affixed  to  the  ankles.  They  sit  on  benches  waiting  for 
company,  or  are  grouped  in  whirling  dances.  A  small 
orchestra  is  in  attendance,  to  the  music  of  which  the 
dance  goes  on.  A  slight  fee  is  demanded  for  admit- 
tance, but  the  concern  is  supported  by  the  immense 
bar,  which  is  often  insufficient  to  supply  the  demands 
of  the  thirsty  crowd.  Every  one  who  enters  is  ex- 
pected to  dance,  and  to  treat  some  female  of  the 
establishment.  After  each  dance  all  the  parties  on  the 


IN  NEW  YORK.  633 

floor  go  up  and  drink  at  the  expense  of  the  men.  If 
parties  neither  dance  nor  drink,  they  are  ordered  out. 
Allen  needs  no  policeman  to  assist  him  in  clearing  his 
establishment.  He  is  a  lithe,  wiry  pugilist,  and  can 
clear  his  establishment  single-handed  when  he  pleases. 
Sailors  in  from  a  long  cruise,  boatmen,  longshoremen, 
captains,  countrymen,  patronize  the  house.  The  girls 
are  mostly  foreigners,  of  the  lowest  order,  and  come 
from  the  lowest  stews  and  their  downward  career 
is  well  nigh  ended. 

A    TALK    WITH    ALLEN. 

He  admitted  that  he  was  at  war  with  society,  and 
society  with  him.  He  went  into  the  business,  he  said, 
to  make  money,  and  he  had  made  a  fortune.  He  does 
not  hide  his  bitterness  that  society  now  will  not 
receive  him  back.  He  talks  about  his  children,  his 
brothers,  his  nephews,  and  what  he  does  for  benev- 
olent causes.  He  has  several  religious  papers,  to  which 
he  is  particularly  attached.  Any  one  who  chooses  may 
read  them,  and  tracts  and  religious  reading  are  at  the 
service  of  any  who  have  a  taste  that  way. 

RELIGIOUS    SERVICES. 

The  room  opens  at  about  eight,  and  the  pastimes 
close  at  about  twelve.  Fifty  would  be  a  large  crowd 
for  the  rooms ;  but  as  company  is  coming  and  going  all 
the  evening,  several  hundreds  partake  of  the  rude  fun, 
among  w7hom  are  boys  and  girls  below  twelve  years 
of  age.  The  atmosphere  reeks  with  blasphemy.  The 
women  are  driven  to  their  work  by  imprecations,  and 
often  by  blows,  from  their  taskmaster.  Many  of  them 


634  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

came  from  good  homes,  left  their  country  residences, 
and  began  a  gay  life  without  imagining  where  it  would 
end.  Brazen,  sore-eyed,  filthy,  the  mere  scurn  of  life, 
they  remain  here  a  short  time,  are  then  kicked  on  to 
the  sidewalk,  and  are  sent  to  the  Island  to  die.  Yet 
even  here  religious  service  is  sometimes  held.  Allen  is 
willing  that  any  Christian  should  talk  to  his  girls,  and 
even  an  exhortation  is  not  objected  to.  If  any  wish  to 
leave,  he  will  clear  them  out  with  an  oath. 

One  of  our  earnest  mission  men  told  me  that,  being 
in  the  dance-room  one  night,  he  proposed  to  hold  a 
prayer-meeting.  After  several  songs  had  been  sung, 
notwithstanding  the  protest  of  the  proprietor  that  he 
would  not  have  a  prayer  in  his  establishment,  or  that 
he  would  not  hear  it,  a  prayer-meeting  was  held.  Some 
of  the  girls  knelt  on  the  floor,  while  others  bowed  their 
heads.  Many  announced  their  desire  to  leave  their 
miserable  employment  and  get  an  honest  living,  but 
said  that  nobody  would  employ  them ;  that  they  could 
get  nothing  to  do.  If  they  got  a  place,  they  would  be 
found  out  and  sent  away,  and  that  they  must  remain 
•with  Allen  or  starve.  And  this  is  but  a  type  of  lower 
New  York  life  —  full  of  sin,  full  of  shame,  full  of  sor- 
row, full  of  suffering,  full  of  repentance  and  remorse, 
without  relief,  and  without  hope.  Were  Satan  to  be 
personified,  Allen  would  be  a  good  specimen. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  635 


LXXVIII. 

NEW    YORK    DAILY    PRESS. 

ITS  POWER.  —  NEW  YORK  TIMES  :  MR.  RAYMOND.  —  THE  EVENING  POST  :  MR. 
BRYANT,  PARK  GODWIN.  — THE  PECULIARITIES  OF  THE  POST. — THE  NEW 
YORK  WORLD:  ITS  ORIGIN,  RELIGIOUS  BASIS,  ITS  EDITORS  AND  CON- 
DUCTORS. 

ITS   POWER. 

THE  daily  press  of  the  city  is  an  immense  power.  It 
is  felt  in  all  parts  of  the  land.  The  shrewdest  capital- 
ists invest  in  the  stock.  The  Herald,  Tribune,  and 
Times  pay  over  seventy-five  per  cent,  on  the  invest- 
ment. A  share  of  the  stock  can  scarcely  be  bought  at 
any  price.  Men  who  do  not  sympathize  with  the 
politics  of  the  paper  have  no  objection  to  pocket  the 
dividends.  Our  leading  papers  secure  the  most  costly 
sites,  and  on  them  erect  the  most  costly  edifices  that 
adorn  the  city.  However  elegant  the  building  may  be, 
the  editorial  rooms  exhibit  the  clutter  and  soil  that 
attend  the  conducting  of  a  daily  newspaper.  In  these 
dingy  rooms,  up  towards  the  sky,  in  a  lofty  building, 
will  be  found  the  ablest  talent  in  the  land  —  the  sharp- 
est pens  and  the  ablest  writers,  the  keenest  ability, 
blended  with  learning,  wit,  and  power.  The  fascina- 


636  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

tion  of  the  press  in  New  York  has  drawn  the  most 
eloquent  preachers  from  the  pulpit.  Lawyers,  with  a 
large  and  lucrative  practice,  have  thrown  up  their  briefs 
for  the  excitement  of  the  political  arena.  Poets,  whose 
names  will  live  in  song  while  the  English  language 
shall  endure,  have  hung  their  harps  on  the  willows  to 
accept  the  editorial  chair  of  a  city  paper.  Professors 
in  colleges,  doctors  in  medicine,  actors,  and  literary 
men  of  all  degrees,  acknowledge  the  power  of  the 
press,  and  prefer  its  labor  to  distinguished  honors 
elsewhere. 

The  press  is  a  magic  word.  -  It  runs  the  guard.  It 
breaks  through  the  lines  of  police.  It  ascends  plat- 
forms and  scaffolds.  It  opens  places  of  amusement  and 
galleries  of  art.  It  commands  a  plate  at  a  twenty  dol- 
lar dinner.  It  brings  obsequious  authors  and  proud 
capitalists  into  its  dingy  sanctum.  It  invades  the 
privacy  of  aristocratic  life.  It  enters  balls,  soirees,  and 
brilliant  saloons,  where  the  elite  assemble,  and  "  our 
set  "  entertain.  To  one  fairly  entitled  to  it,  the  "  New 
York  Press "  will  carry  a  man  round  the  globe.  It 
influences  all  departments  of  trade.  Men  read  its 
columns  in  the  morning  before  they  buy,  or  sell,  or 
transact  business.  An  author  trembles  for  his  bantling 
till  the  press  has  spoken.  Its  united  voice  will  make 
his  fortune.  Its  ban  is  his  ruin.  A  new  artist  or 
actor  cannot  tell  by  the  applause  of  the  evening  how 
he  stands  in  public  favor.  The  morning  papers  will 
decide  that.  A  new  performance,  applauded  or  hissed, 
is  not  a  success  or  a  failure  until  the  press  has  spoken. 
The  editors  of  the  city  could  destroy  the  season  of  any 
manager.  Philippics  from  the  pulpit  and  thunders  from 


: 


IN  NEW  YORK.  637 

the  forum  against  an  objectionable  play  will  probably 
send  all  New  York  to  see  it.  If  the  manager  took  any 
notice  of  the  attack,  he  would  send  a  season  ticket  to 
the  gentle*nan  who  gave  him  notoriety.  A  small 
paragraph  in  a  daily  paper  adverse  to  an  artist,  or 
attacking  a  man,  will  bring  the  parties  at  once  to  the 
editorial  rooms.  So  conscious  are  men  of  this  power, 
that  when  they  wish  to  be  kept  before  the  people, 
knowing  that  their  speeches  will  fall  dead  with  the  utter- 
ance, they  write  them  out  beforehand,  and  send  them 
to  the  press  interlined  with  greenbacks.  Every  politi- 
cal party,  religious  denomination,  and  distinct  interest 
that  wishes  to  succeed,  establishes  an  organ.  In  New 
York  a  man's  talent,  social  position,  eloquence,  and 
capital  avail  but  little  unless  he  is  backed  by  the  press. 
Politics  aside,  the  press  is  eminently  fair  and  honorable 
in  its  treatment  of  public  men.  Every  phase  of  religion 
and  benevolence  has  a  fair  hearing.  The  industry  of 
the  representatives  of  this  great  power  is  wonderful. 
Meetings  cannot  be  too  numerous  for  them  to  notice. 
The  orator  who  closes  his  after-dinner  speech  at  mid- 
night will  find  himself  accurately  reported  in  the  paper 
that  he  reads  at  his  breakfast-table. 

THE   NEW   YORK   TIMES. 

This  paper  was  started  by  Henry  J.  Raymond,  who  is 
the  editor-in-chief.  It  is  now  owned  by  a  stock  company. 
Untold  sums  of  money  were  sunk  before  it  became  a 
success.  The  heaviest  capitalists  in  the  city  are  among 
its  owners.  Its  dividends  are  very  large.  Next  to  the 
Herald  and  Tribune,  it  is  probably  the  best  paying 
paper  in  America.  It  is  conducted  with  marked  ability, 


638  SUNSHINE  AN'D   SHADOW 

and  to  Mr.  Raymond's  indomitable  industry,  tact,  and 
talent  its  success  is  greatly  due.  He  began  his  career 
by  holding  the  humblest  positions  in  connection  with 
the  newspaper.  He  was  reporter  and  writer  of  small 
paragraphs.  He  has  now  absolute  control  over  the 
personal,  literary,  and  political  departments  of  the 
Times.  He  writes  much,  from  the  elaborate  leaders  to 
the  spicy  minor  topics  which  grace  the  columns  of  the 
Times.  Pie  began  poor  enough.  He  has  amassed  a 
fortune,  but  remits  none  of  his  industry.  He  reaches 
the  office  between  twelve  and  one  daily.  One  hour  he 
devotes  to  the  counting-room,  looking  after  financial 
matters.  He  then  passes  up  to  his  own  room,  which 
faces  the  Park,  and  is  located  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  commodious  Times  Building.  He  looks  carefully 
through  the  correspondence,  reads  his  letters,  runs 
over  the  left-over  proofs,  writes  on  foreign  affairs, 
works  till  four  o'clock,  and  then  is  off.  Occasionally 
he  comes  down  again  at  night,  and  remains  till  one 
o'clock.  His  connection  with  Mr.  Seward  and  other 
prominent  men  makes  him  authority  on  political  af- 
fairs. Eminent  bankers,  interested  in  the  Times,  post 
him  on  finance. 

Mr.  Raymond  is  about  fifty  years  of  age,  looking 
scarcely  forty.  He  is  below  the  medium  height,  thick- 
set, with  a  very  marked  countenance,  and  a  presence 
that  does  not  do  justice  to  his  abilities.  He  is  a  very 
popular,  and  effective  orator.  He  is  very  fond  of  social 
life,  is  often  at  places  of  entertainment,  drives  a  neat 
span  of  bays  in  the  Park,  and  is  pleased  with  the  com- 
pany of  men  younger  than  himself.  He  is  very 
decidedly  fashionable  in  his  dress,  and  sports  an  eye- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  639 

glass  and  a  small  gold-headed  cane.  But  he  is  every- 
where a  gentleman,  and  in  nothing  does  this  character- 
istic come  out  more  fully  than  in  his  intercourse  with 
subordinates,  whom  he  always  treats  with  marked  con- 
sideration and  courtesy. 

The  force  that  surrounds  Mr.  Raymond  is  able.  Mr. 
Shepherd  writes  many  of  the  editorials.  Morrison,  a 
Canadian,  writes  much  on  our  colonial  relations.  John 
Swiriton  prepares  many  of  the  minor  topics.  Stillman 
C.  Conant  is  the  managing  editor.  Besides  making  up 
the  paper,  he  does  the  art  notices,  and  writes  the 
reviews  of  books.  Henry  Winson  is  city  editor,  and 
Governier  Carr  is  night  editor.  The  night  mails  and 
telegrams  are  under  the  charge  of  Cliff  Thompson  and 
J.  H.  Thompson.  Cymon,  the  very  capable  and  able 
Washington  correspondent,  is  L.  L.  Crownse.  James  L. 
Swayne  is  the  sharp,  keen  Albany  correspondent ;  Lio. 
Jennings,  of  the  London  Times,  and  Dr.  Thompson, 
write  letters  from  abroad.  Charles  B.  Seamore  is  the 
musical  critic,  and  Augustus  Dale  the  dramatic.  John 
Webb  is  the  librarian  and  indexer.  Podgers  is  Mr. 
Ogden;  Rodd  is  Roger  Conant. 

Joseph  Howard,  Jr.,  well  known  as  Howard  of  the 
Times,  connected  himself  with  this  paper  in  1860.  His 
remarkable  letters  on  the  presidential  conventions, 
and  on  the  reception  given  to  the  Prince  of  Wales, 
made  his  name  widely  known  in  all  parts  of  the  land. 
His  telegraph  bills  in  relation  to  the  prince's  tour  were 
seven  thousand  dollars  in  fourteen  weeks.  He  stands 
unquestioned  among  the  first  letter-writers  of  the  age. 
He  enjoyed  the  confidential  friendship  of  President 
Lincoln,  and  was  intimate  with  him  in  the  White 


640  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

House  while  in  Washington.  His  famous  "  Proclama- 
tion," which  gained  for  him  such  notoriety,  as  well  as  a 
temporary  residence  in  Fort  Lafayette,  was  not  under- 
stood. It  was  intended  as  a  burlesque  on  the  never- 
ending  and  never-availing  proclamations  from  head- 
quarters, and  the  author  was  rather  surprised  at  the 
fidelity  of  his  prediction.  Released  from  Fort  Lafayette, 
Mr.  Howard  had  to  ascertain  how  he  stood  professional- 
ly, politically,  and  socially.  The  government  appointed 
him  official  recorder  to  the  headquarters,  Department 
of  the  East.  He  assumed  his  old  place  on  the  Times, 
and  remained  there  until  he  took  full  charge  of  the 
Brooklyn  Eagle.  His  versatility  in  writing  is  very 
great.  He  is  connected  with  all  sorts  of  papers,  and 
writes  over  every  imaginable  signature.  When  the 
pompously  solemn  Drum  Beat  was  published,  as  the 
organ  of  the  Sanitary  Fair,  Howard  wrote  a  burlesque 
that  silenced  the  Drum  Beat,  under  the  facetious 
signature  of  "Dead  Beat."  He  is  a  dramatic  critic 
of  the  first  order. 

THE     EVENING     POST. 

William  C.  Bryant  contributes  his  name  to  the 
paper.  Though  editor-in-chief,  he  pays  but  little  at- 
tention to  what  appears  in  its  columns.  Park  Godwin 
is  the  principal  owner,  and  controls  the  paper.  He 
writes  a  great  deal.  Charles  NordhoiF  furnishes  many 
articles  for  the  paper,  and  held  Mr.  Godwin's  place 
while  he  was  in  Europe.  The  managing  editor,  who 
prepares  the  correspondence  and  works  up. the  city 
news,  is  Aug.  Maverick.  The  business  man  is  Isaac 


IN   NEW   YORK.  641 

Henderson.  The  peculiarities  of  the  Post  are,  that 
each  editor  controls  his  own  department,  and  has  a 
share  in  the  annual  profits  of  the  paper. 

THE    NEW    YORK    WORLD. 

This  paper,  now  the  leading  Democratic  organ  of 
the  city,  was  started  as  a  religious  paper.  The  in- 
tention was  to  have  the  whole  drift  of  it  evangel- 
ical, and  to  admit  no  advertisements  that  were  ques- 
tionable in  their  character,  or  favored  theatres,  liquor 
saloons,  or  anything  that  was  not  strictly  moral  or 
religious.  The  paper  originated  with  Rev.  Dr.  McClin- 
tock,  then  pastor  of  St.  Paul's  Methodist  Church  in 
this  city.  The  wealthy  Christian  men  of  New  York 
were  stockholders.  The  names  of  Drew,  Stout,  Cor- 
nell, and  other  wealthy  bankers,  were  among  the 
subscribers  to  the  original  stock.  Pious  men  sat  in 
the  editorial  chairs.  Pious  reporters  scoured  the  city 
for  news  fitting  to  be  read  at  a  Christian  breakfast- 
table.  Men  undertook  to  do  the  business  of  the  con- 
cern who  can  manage  a  prayer-meeting  better  than 
they  can  run  a  news  office.  The  entire  capital 
stock  was  soon  swallowed  up.  With  undaunted  cour- 
age the  original  stockholders  subscribed  over  again. 
On  the  basis  proposed,  the  thing  was  a  failure.  After 
sinking  over  three  hundred  thousand  dollars,  the  pa- 
per was  passed  over  to  the  present  owners.  The 
ostensible  proprietor  of  the  World  is  Manton  M.  Mar- 
ble, who  is  editor-in-chief.  He  writes  much,  and  writes 
well,  and  gives  a  large  portion  of  his  time  to  the 
paper.  He  is  a  genial,  accomplished  gentleman,  with 
41 


642  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

a  fine  address,  and  is  very  popular  with  his  friends. 
D.  G.  Croly  is  the  managing  editor.  William  H. 
Hurlbnrt  is  a  graceful,  humorous  writer,  keen,  sharp, 
and  pointed.  Most  of  the  political  leaders  are  writ- 
ten by  Chamberlain,  formerly  of  Philadelphia. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  643 


LXXIX. 

NEW    YORK    INDEPENDENT. 

ITS    ORIGIN.  —  PRESBYTERIANS    AND    CONGREGATIONALISTS     SEPARATE.  —  NEW 

ORGAN    NEEDED.  —  BASIS    OP    THE    PAPER.  THE    INDEPENDENT    AND    ITS 

EDITORS. POLITICAL  AND  ANTI-SLAVERY  PLATFORMS.  —  THE  HIGHER  LAW. 

TRACT  SOCIETY  CONTROVERSY.  —  MR.  BEECHER  AS  EDITOR.  — THEODORE 

TILTON.  —  CONNECTION  WITH  THE  OBSERVER.  —  BECOMES  CONNECTED  WITH 
THE  INDEPENDENT.  —  HIS  REMARKABLE  CAREER.  —  DR.  LEAVITT.  —  HENRY 
C.  BOWEN. 

ITS     ORIGIN. 

TOWARDS  the  close  of  the  last  century  the  New  Eng- 
land churches  sent  out  their  missionaries  into  the  new 
states.  Men  were  sent,  not  only  into  New  York,  but  into 
the  West  and  the  South.  The  Presbyterians  were  in  the 
field,  and  a  plan  of  union  was  formed  between  the  Con- 
gregationalists  and  Presbyterians,  by  which  the  min- 
isters of  each  should  occupy  the  same  field  and  the 
same  churches.  The  Presbyterians  were  very  tenacious 
of  their  form  of  government,  and  this  tenacity  increased 
till  it  nearly  swallowed  up  all  there  was  of  Congrega- 
tionalism. About  forty  years  ago  the  pressure  made 
by  the  Presbyterians  on  the  Congregationalists  induced 
them  to  withdraw  from  the  union  and  form  small  Con- 
gregational churches  and  associations  of  the  same  form 
of  government.  The  Old  School  Presbyterians  cut  off 


644  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

the  New  School  and  the  Congregationalists  from  their 
Presbyteries.  This  led  to  the  formation  of  Congrega- 
tional churches  throughout  the  West.  A  company  of 
young  men  went  into  Iowa,  and  were  known  as  the 
Andover  Band,  from  the  theological  seminary  which 
they  had  left.  They  were  able  men,  and  through  their 
labors  new  congregations  were  founded  and  new  as- 
sociations reared  in  most  of  the  Western  States. 

The  Congregationalists  had  no  organ  out  of  New 
England.  The  ft  Evangelist,"  till  1837,  was  a  Congre- 
gational paper.  It  then  became  Presbyterian.  A  new 
glory  was  dawning  on  the  Congregational  Church. 
Rev.  Joseph  P.  Thompson  and  Dr.  Cheever  were  in 
New  York.  Rev.  R.  S.  Storrs  and  Henry  Ward 
Beecher  were  in  Brooklyn.  They  were  men  of  talent 
and  power.  Their  churches  were  large,  wealthy,  and 
influential.  A  newspaper  through  which  these  men 
could  speak  to  the  world  seemed  a  necessity.  Rev. 
Dr.  Joshua  Leavitt  became  the  nucleus  around  which 
earnest  and  talented  men  gathered,  who  proposed  to 
start  a  religious  paper  that  should  be  second  to 
none  in  the  land. 

BASIS    OF   THE   PAPER. 

There  were  in  New  York  several  young  Christian 
merchants  of  wealth,  who  proposed  to  found  a  paper 
upon  a  financial  basis  that  should  secure  its  publication 
for  five  years,  whether  the  paper  was  a  success  or  not, 
whether  it  had  a  subscriber  or  not.  It  was  to  be  a 
catholic,  liberal,  Christian  sheet,  which  should  not  only 
discuss  religious  topics,  and  be  the  organ  of  Congrega- 
tionalism, but  also  be  the  champion  of  freedom,  and  a 


IN   NEW   YORK.  645 

decided  opponent  of  slavery.  Three  clerical  gentlemen 
were  selected  as  editors — Rev.  Drs.  Bacon  of  New 
Haven,  Thompson  of  New  York,  and  Storrs  of  Brook- 
lyn. After  much  discussion,  the  name  "Independent" 
was  adopted,  as  every  way  fitting  to  indicate  the  posi- 
tion the  paper  was  to  assume  on  matters  religious, 
political,  and  educational.  An  agreement  in  writing  was 
drawn,  defining  the  duties  of  all  parties  connected  with 
the  paper —  editors,  proprietors,  and  assistants. 

THE    INDEPENDENT    AND    ITS    EDITORS. 

On  the  1st  of  December,  1848,  the  first  number  of 
the  Independent  was  printed.  It  was  in  season  to  take 
part  in  the  free-soil  canvass  of  1848.  It  was  a  part  of 
the  original  compact  that  the  Independent  should 
speak  out  on  the  question  of  Liberty  in  no  measured 
tones.  The  proprietors  and  the  editors  were  anti- 
slavery  men,  but  till  the  canvass  of  1848  they  were 
not  abolitionists.  The  motto  of  the  paper,  suggested 
by  Dr.  Leavitt,  was  very  significant :  "  But  as  we  were 
allowed  of  God  to  be  put  in  trust  with  the  Gospel,  even 
so  we  speak,  not  as  pleasing  men,  but  God,  which 
trieth  our  hearts."  Up  to  this  time  there  had  been 
much  in  common  between  the  New  School  Presby- 
terians and  the  Congregationalists.  The  starting  of  the 
Independent  aroused  the  New  School  branch.  Mr. 
Leavitt,  the  old  war-horse  of  anti-slavery,  had  many 
political  enemies.  To  damage  the  Independent,  the 
story  was  circulated  that  "  Joshua  Leavitt  was  to  be 
its  editor."  The  effect  of  this  announcement  was  to 
bring  at  once  from  fifteen  hundred  to  two  thousand 
subscribers,  who  were  anti-slavery  in  sentiment,  to  the 


646  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

subscription  list  of  the  Independent.  Seeing  the  mis- 
take, it  was  then  asserted  that  Mr.  Leavitt  was  not  to 
be  engaged  as  editor,  but  only  to  gather  scraps  and 
clippings  for  the  paper.  To  head  off  the  new  Congre- 
gational organ,  a  paper  was  started,  called  the  Pres- 
byterian, to  be  the  organ  of  the  New  School.  Theodore 
D wight  and  L.  Halsey,  an  Old  School  Presbyterian, 
were  the  editors.  The  latter  was  to  receive  a  salary 
of  five  thousand  dollars.  The  paper  was  weakly,  and 
died  at  the  close  of  the  first  year,  and  its  subscription 
list  was  transferred  to  the  Evangelist. 

In  the  meanwhile  the  Independent  went  swinging 
along  at  the  most  successful  rate.  It  secured  a  large 
list  of  subscribers,  and  correspondence  came  in  from  all 
parts  of  the  country.  The  ability,  tact,  and  executive 
power  seen  in  the  management  of  the  paper,  and,  above 
all,  its  readable  character,  gave  it  marked  success.  Be- 
sides its  religious  and  political  principles,  the  paper  has 
always  been  distinguished  for  the  independence,  fair- 
ness, and  ability  of  its  book  notices.  This  department 
has  been  a  speciality. 

The  greatest  harmony  of  opinion  prevailed  among 
the  editors.  A  weekly  consultation  was  held,  and  all 
important  matters  submitted.  When  a  consultation 
could  not  be  had,  and  an  important  leader  was  pub- 
lished, the  article  was  usually  acknowledged  to  be  the 
thing  needed.  The  utmost  sympathy  existed  among 
the  editors. 

THE   HIGHER   LAW. 

On  the  passage  of  the  Fugitive  Slave  Law,  in  1850, 
Dr.  Thompson  wrote  a  leader,  in  which  he  took  ground 
that  so  infamous  was  the  law,  no  Christian  man  was 


IN  NEW  YORK.  647 

bound  to  obey  it.  This  is  conceded  to  have  been  the 
first  announcement  of  the  principle  afterwards  known  as 
the  "  Higher  Law/'  which  phrase  is  due  to  Mr.  Seward. 
The  announcement  became  the  pivot  on  which  the 
whole  country  finally  wheeled.  The  position  was  in 
advance  of  public  sentiment.  The  doom  of  the  In- 
dependent was  predicted.  The  stake  was  moved  too 
far  in  advance,  it  was  thought.  Subscribers  and 
patrons  were  startled.  One  of  the  original  founders 
of  the  paper,  who  was  largely  in  the  Southern  trade, 
withdrew  from  the  concern.  But  the  Independent 
took  no  backward  steps. 

TRACT    SOCIETY    CONTROVERSY. 

The  Independent  accused  the  Tract  Society  of  being 
an  ally  of  slavery,  assailed  its  position,  and  opened  a 
controversy  which  was  sustained  with  great  vigor  and 
ability  on  both  sides.  The  whole  country  looked  on 
with  deep  interest  as  the  controversy  progressed.  An 
eminent  clergyman  met  Dr.  Leavitt  in  the  street,  and 
said  to  him,  "  Doctor,  I  pity  you  fellows.  No  one  ever 
opposed  that  Society  without  getting  the  worst  of  it. 
I  had  a  controversy  with  it  myself,  and  it  nearly  killed 
me.  You  will  be  crushed.  They  will  hunt  you  high 
and  low,  and  there  will  be  nothing  left  of  you  :  they 
will  grind  you  to  powder."  "  Well,"  said  Dr.  Leavitt, 
"  I  know  wre  are  right  in  principle.  Our  paper  has  a 
financial  basis  that  can't  be  shaken  for  five  years.  We 
can  print  the  Independent  every  week  during  that 
time  if  every  subscriber  leaves  us.  We  have  three 
editors,  among  the  ablest  writers  in  the  land,  backed 
by  wealthy  churches,  and  they  are  all  a  unit  in  this 


648  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

matter.  The  Congregational  churches  throughout  the 
country  sustain  us.  Our  list  is  increasing ;  the  great 
heart  of  the  people  has  been  touched,  and  we  shall 
succeed."  The  war  ended  the  controversy,  and  brought 
the  Tract  Society  on  to  anti-slavery  ground. 

MR.    BEECHER    AS    EDITOR. 

The  war  produced  a  change  in  the  management  of 
the  paper.  The  three  editors  resigned.  Henry  Ward 
Beecher  took  the  editorial  chair.  He  managed  the 
Independent  till  he  went  to  Europe,  and,  without  any 
formal  resignation,  gradually  withdrew  from  the  con- 
trol of  its  columns.  He  had  previously  been  a  regular 
contributor.  His  papers,  which  were  designated  by  a 
star,  were  among  the  most  popular  and  brilliant  that 
ever  came  from  his  pen.  His  labors  as  an  editor  were 
able  and  satisfactory,  though  he  wrote  but  little.  Those 
savage  attacks  on  Mr.  Lincoln,  in  the  Independent, 
which  attracted  so  much  attention  throughout  the 
country,  not  to  say  indignation,  were  from  the  pen  of 
Mr.  Beecher.  The  experiment  of  reporting  his  ser- 
mons from  his  lips  by  a  phonographer  proved  a  paying 
one,  and  was. continued  for  several  years.  His  celebrat- 
ed Cleveland  Letter  closed  his  connection  with  the 
paper. 

THEODORE    TILTON. 

The  present  editor-in-chief  became  connected  with 
the  Independent  rather  incidentally.  He  graduated 
from  the  Free  Academy  of  New  York,  and  connected 
himself  with  the  Observer.  He  possessed  a  brilliant 
imagination,  wrote  acceptable  poetry,  was  ready  with 
his  pen  and  tongue,  and  manifested  a  decided  ambition 


IN   NEW   YORK.  649 

to  make  his  mark.  A  disagreement  on  the  matter  of 
slavery  led  to  his  dismissal  from  the  Observer.  He 
was  afloat  in  the  world,  with  a  young  wife  on  his  hands, 
and  without  means  of  support.  He  was  about  twenty- 
one  years  of  age,  a  member  of  Plymouth  Church,  and 
in  his  welfare  the  pastor  and  people  took  a  decided 
interest.  Through  Mr.  Beecher's  influence,  Mr.  Tilton 
was  put  on  the  Independent  in  1856,  to  do  anything 
that  might  be  found  for  him  to  do. 

Unknown  at  the  start,  he  first  attracted  general 
attention  by  a  controversy  in  Plymouth  Church  be- 
tween himself  and  Mr.  Beecher.  Mr.  Tilton  took  the 
ground  that  as  a  consistent  anti-slavery  man  Mr. 
Beecher  could  not  support  the  American  Board.  Mr. 
Beecher  defended  his  position,  and  Tilton  assailed 
it,  before  crowded  audiences,  who  were  attracted  by 
the  discussion.  Mr.  Beecher  was  tender  and  concilia- 
tory. Mr.  Tilton  was  fierce,  vindictive,  and  denuncia- 
tory. One  of  Mr.  Tilton's  speeches  was  reported  and 
printed  in  the  Independent.  It  put  him  to  the  front 
rank  as  an  anti-slavery  speaker,  and  he  became  a  favor- 
ite orator  at  public  meetings.  It  brought  him  out  as  a 
lecturer,  and  he  is  probably  now  as  popular  and  suc- 
cessful as  any  man  who  makes  lecturing  a  business. 
When  Mr.  Beecher  went  to  Europe,  Mr.  Tilton  was 
left  in  charge  of  the  Independent.  On  the  withdrawal 
of  Mr.  Beecher,  without  any  formal  introduction  he 
continued  in  the  position  which  he  now  holds.  He  is 
sole  editor  of  the  paper.  He  is  left  perfectly  free  to 
conduct  it  as  he  will.  While  the  drift  is  unchanged,  he 
is  untrammelled.  The  leaders,  double-leaded,  are  from 
his  pen. 


650  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


DR.    LEAVITT. 

This  gentleman  is  associate  editor.  He  was  one  of 
the  original  founders  of  the  paper,  and  has  held  an 
important  place  in  its  management  from  the  start. 
Trained  a  lawyer,  he  is  a  preacher  of  marked  ability, 
a  writer  of  pith,  sharpness,  culture.  With  extensive 
knowledge,  he  was  able  to  assume  any  place,  and  fill 
any  vacancy.  Forty  years  ago  he  came  to  the  city,  and 
was  editor  of  the  Sailor's  Magazine.  A  decided  Congre- 
gationalist,  he  edited  the  Evangelist  when  that  paper 
was  in  the  interest  of  that  body.  Under  the  control  of 
Dr.  Leavitt,  the  Evangelist  took  the  side  of  reform,  de- 
fended Congregationalism,  assailing  slavery,  and  vin- 
dicating revivals.  In  1842  he  became  editor  of  the 
Emancipator,  which  was  removed  to  Boston.  He 
closed  his  connection  with  that  paper  in  1847,  and  was 
called  into  the  original  council,  in  1848,  by  which  the 
Independent  was  started.  Many  years  before,  Dr. 
Leavitt  commenced  the  system  of  reporting  sermons 
as  they  were  delivered  from  the  pulpit.  The  celebrated 
lectures  of  Mr.  Finney,  in  Chatham  Theatre,  reported 
by  Dr.  Leavitt,  attracted  so  much  attention  that  pro- 
fessional reporters  were  brought  from  Washington  to 
do  the  same  thing  for  other  papers. 

HENRY    C.    BO  WEN. 

This  gentleman,  who,  twenty  years  ago,  united  with 
other  young  merchants  in  establishing  the  Indepen- 
dent, is  now  the  sole  proprietor.  His  executive  ability 
is  very  marked.  He  is  liberal,  generous,  and  con- 
siderate. The  editors  are  untrammelled,  their  pay  is 


IN   NEW   YORK.  651 

large,  and  they  are  allowed  to  call  in  any  aid  needful 
to  give  the  paper  a  position  among  the  best  in  the 
land.  Large  sums  are  paid  to  writers,  —  not  any  great 
sum  to  any  individual,  but  a  fair  compensation  to  a 
large  number.  The  proprietor  intends  to  secure  the 
best  talent  in  the  country,  and  pay  that  talent  a  hand- 
some remuneration.  Correspondence  is  not  as  much 
sought  for,  either  foreign  or  at  home,  as  formerly. 
Articles  of  merit,  essays  on  important  subjects  and 
themes,  take  the  place  of  gossiping  letters.  The  new 
feature  of  the  paper  is  the  advocacy  of  female  suffrage, 
to  which  it  is  as  fully  committed  as  to  religion,  anti- 
slavery,  or  temperance.  Mr.  Bowen  is  a  genial,  com- 
panionable, agreeable  man,  with  great  business  talents. 
He  has  made  the  paper  a  paying  success.  It  is,  with- 
out doubt,  the  most  profitable  religious  journal  in  the 
world. 

FINALE. 

In  cutting  itself  loose  from  Congregationalism,  as  a 
partisan  organ,  the  Independent  has  changed  none  of 
its  principles.  It  is  still  an  unflinching  advocate  of 
freedom  in  church  and  state.  It  Advocates  the  reforms 
and  humanities  of  the  age  \vith  surpassing  ability.  Its 
editor-in-chief,  scarcely  thirty-five  years  of  age,  is  a  very 
marked  man  in  appearance.  He  is  tall,  with  a  decided 
stoop,  a  face  in  which  the  energy  of  youth  and  the 
maturity  of  age  seem  to  struggle  for  the  mastery.  His 
hair,  lightish-brown,  is  long,  flowing,  and  prematurely 
gray.  He  walks  the  streets  with  his  head  inclined,  his 
eyes  on  the  pavement,  taking  no  notice  of  even  his 
friends.  He  is  genial,  warm-hearted,  and  sociable,  has 
strong,  warm  friends,  to  whom  he  attaches  himself  as 
with  hooks  of  steel. 


652  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


FINANCIAL    SUCCESS. 

For  twelve  years  the  Independent  was  conducted  on 
a  sectarian  basis ;  but  it  never  was  a  financial  success. 
The  original  owners  fell  off,  one  by  one,  till  Mr.  Bowen 
became  principally  responsible  for  the  publication  of 
the  paper.  It  never  paid  its  expenses.  The  editors 
were  allowed  to  draw  on  him  for  any  funds  necessary 
to  make  the  paper  what  it  ought  to  be.  He  never  ques- 
tioned their  expenditures,  and  paid  all  the  bills  cheer- 
fully. While  he  was  making  money,  a  few  thousands 
one  way  or  the  other  amounted  to  but  little.  At  the 
opening  of  the  war,  the  Independent  was  indebted  to 
Mr.  Bowen  in  the  sum  of  forty  thousand  dollars.  This, 
with  the  heavy  losses  resulting  from  the  war,  obliged 
the  house  of  which  he  was  a  partner  to  suspend. 
During  the  long  years  of  its  existence  the  proprietors 
had  received  no  income  in  any  way  from  the  paper. 
He  entered  the  office,  rolled  up  his  sleeves,  and  resolved 
to  try  the  experiment  whether  or  not  the  Independent 
could  be  made  a  paying  paper.  Twenty  thousand 
dollars  in  cash  have  been  paid  for  advertising  since 
Mr.  Bowen  became  the  publisher.  The  indebtedness  of 
forty  thousand  dollars  has  been  paid  from  the  profits. 
Two  hundred  thousand  dollars  was  paid  to  extinguish 
the  interest  of  parties  in  the  paper.  One  half  mil- 
lion of  dollars  has  been  refused  for  the  paper.  The 
salaries  are  liberal.  The  editor  went  on  to  the  paper 
at  a  salary  of  eight  hundred  dollars  a  year,  and  is  now 
paid  six  hundred  dollars  a  month,  or,  in  round  num- 
bers, seven  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  a  year.  Dr. 
Leavitt,  who  started  with  the  paper,  has  his  salary 


IN  NEW   YORK.  653 

increased  with  his  infirmities,  and  will  be  supported 
when  he  is  too  enfeebled  to  labor.  The  ablest  men  of 
the  different  evangelical  denominations  are  secured  to 
swell  the  editorial  force.  A  department  for  temperance, 
Sunday  schools,  and  other  important  causes,  is  to  have 
an  editor  who  shall  be  second  in  ability  to  none  in  the 
land.  The  Independent  is  claimed  to  be  the  best  pay- 
ing paper  in  America,  except  the  Herald.  And  this 
has  been  the  fruit  of  cutting  loose  from  party,  local 
and  sectarian  issues,  and  launching  out  on  the  broad 
ocean  of  Christian  union,  and  giving  its  energies  to  the 
whole  church.  A  splendid  marble  building  has  been 
secured  on  Park  Place,  to  be  fitted  up  elegantly  as  a 
banking-house  for  the  accommodation  of  the  increasing 
business  of  this  enterprising  concern. 


654  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 


LXXX. 
HON.    HORACE    GREELEY. 

MR.  GREELEY  is  the  well-known  editor-in-chief  of  the 
New  York  Tribune.  He  is  one  of  the  marked  men  of 
the  city,  and  is  one  of  the  most  influential.  He  began 
life  on  the  lowest  round  of  the  ladder,  and  by  his  talent, 
invincible  industry,  and  purity  of  character,  has  ele- 
vated himself  to  the  highest  position,  and  has  probably 
more  power  to-day  over  the  American  people  than  any 
other  living  man.  His  style  of  dress  and  appearance 
in  the  street  are  very  peculiar.  His  white  coat  has 
become  as  historical  as  Napoleon's  gray  one.  His  face 
is  fair,  and  a  youthful  and  healthful  hue  flushes  it. 
His  step  in  the  street  is  hurried.  His  head  is  in 
advance  of  his  body,  while  his  feet  trail  heavily  on  the 
ground.  The  crowd  that  rush  past  him  make  no  im- 
pression upon  him,  whether  they  rush  by  without 
noticing,  or  pause  to  follow  him  with  their  eyes.  His 
head  is  massive,  quite  bald  on  the  top,  fringed  with 
flaxen  hair  around  the  base  of  the  brain,  till  it  blends 
with  a  loose,  thin  beard  of  the  same  color,  which  crops 
out  irregularly  around  the  throat,  and  over  a  loosely- 
tied  black  silk  neckerchief.  In  height  he  is  a  little 
below  six  feet.  His  eyes  are  of  a  grayish-blue.  His 
eyebrows  are  so  flaxen  as  to  be  almost  unobservable. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  655 

His  dress  has  long  been  the  subject  of  caricaturists. 
He  can  be  picked  out  anywhere,  whether  in  a  paper 
sketch,  charcoal  sketch,  or  rude  drawing.  He  wears  a 
loosely  fitting  black  swallow-tailed  coat,  black  pants, 
black  velvet  or  silk  vest.  His  cravat  is  the  heavy  silk 
one  of  other  days.  He  wears  no  jewelry  except  a  gold 
ring.  His  hat  is  of  the  soft,  broad-brimmed  style, 
pushed  back  from  the  forehead,  as  if  the  brain  was  too 
active  or  too  hot  to  be  covered.  Physically  he  is 
powerful  but  awkward.  He  stoops,  droops  his  shoulders, 
swings  his  arms,  and  walks  with  a  lounging,  irregular 
gait.  There  is  nothing  in  his  personal  appearance  to 
indicate  a  man  of  commanding  power,  and  the  editor-in- 
chief  of  one  of  the  most  influential  journals  of  the  age. 

Mr.  Greeley  is  not  a  partisan.  He  represents  the  gen- 
eral convictions  and  aspirations  of  the  American  peo- 
ple. In  those  biding  places  of  New  England's  power, 
the  factories,  workshops,  and  the  hearths  of  quiet 
homesteads,  the  Tribune  is  an  oracle.  In  the  fenced 
fields  of  the  prairies,  and  in  the  log  cabins  of  the  far 
West,  it  is  a  power.  Pioneers,  stock  raisers,  and  intel- 
ligent mechanics  trust  Mr.  Greeley.  All  sects  and 
fashions  of  religionists,  dreamers,  schemists,  and  ideal- 
ists find  fair  play  in  the  Tribune.  Mr.  Greeley  is  dis- 
tinguished for  the  intensity  and  honesty  of  his  convic- 
tions. He  may  be  wrong,  but  is  never  base ;  he  may 
be  in  advance  of  public  opinion  ;  he  may  be  deserted  by 
all  but  a  few  dozen  followers  on  some  new  questions ; 
he  may  oppose  his  own  party ;  he  may  attempt  to 
destroy  an  officer,  or  a  policy,  that  he  helped  to  create 
a  few  months  before.  *  While  cursing  his  vagaries,  the 
public  have  unbounded  confidence  in  the  purity  of  his 


656  SUNSHINE   AND   SHADOW 

motives  and  his  questionless  honesty.  He  is  schooled 
for  defeat  as  well  as  victory.  Patronage  cannot  allure 
him  from  what  he  believes  to  be  right.  Nominations 
for  office  cannot  corrupt  him.  His  paper  is  a  political 
power,  of  unexampled  success.  As  an  individual  politi- 
cian, Mr.  Greeley's  life  so  far  is  a  failure.  He  has  none 
of  the  elective  affinities  that  mark  a  great  leader;  and 
though  he  generally  comes  out  right  with  the  public 
in  the  end,  his  intolerance  of  differences  in  public 
judgment  mar  his  present  success. 

As  a  speaker,  he  is  very  forcible  and  impressive,  but 
not  attractive.  Calls  on  him  for  charitable  purposes, 
temperance,  and  humane  gatherings  are  numerous. 
His  response  to  these  calls  is  cheerful,  and  without  com- 
pensation. In  private  life,  in  company  with  a  few 
friends,  and  in  personal  intercourse,  he  is  a  delightful 
companion.  His  table-talk  is  spirited,  humorous,  and 
full  of  anecdote.  He  is  no  ascetic,  but  receives  heartily 
the  good  things  of  Providence,  refusing  wines,  and  all 
strong  drinks,  taking  no  beverage  stronger  than  tea. 
His  memory  is  stupendous,  and  4the  accuracy  by  which 
he  can  recall  the  political  movements  of  the  past,  and 
the  votes  even  of  the  states,  is  marvellous.  Not  much 
of  an  artist  himself,  he  is  fond  of  pictures,  sculpture,  and 
music.  His  charities  are  very  large,  and  scarcely  any 
one  gets  into  his  presence,  who  wants  a  contribution, 
without  obtaining  one.  He  is  a  Universalist  in  reli- 
gious sentiment,  and  a  regular  attendant  at  Dr.  Chapin's 
church.  His  daughter  is  in  the  Convent  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  for  education. 

A  small  room  in  the  Tribune  office  is  set  apart  for  his 
use.  It  is  a  mere  den,  and  as  unsightly  as  can  well 


IN  NEW  YORK.  657 

be  conceived.  He  works  like  a  dray-horse.  His  cor- 
respondence is  immense.  Besides  this,  and  writing  his 
editorials,  he  has  usually  some  heavy  work  on  hand 
which  occupies  his  whole  time.  Any  one  who  has 
claims  upon  him  can  gain  access  to  his  room.  He  will 
usually  be  found  sitting  on  a  high  stool  with  a  table 
before  him,  which  comes  up  almost  to  his  chin,  and  is 
of  pine,  and  uncovered,  soiled  with  use,  and  stained 
with  ink,  pen  in  hand,  driving  away  at  his  task,  with  a 
handwriting  that  few  can  decipher.  His  associate  on 
the  Tribune,  and  managing  editor,  is  John  E.  Young,  a 
young  man,  but  one  of  the  most  promising  and  talented 
connected  with  the  press.  He  controls  everything  and 
everybody,  and  is  the  real  power  of  the  paper. 

To  read  the  daily  papers  of  New  York,  one  would 
suppose  that  the  editors  of  the  leading  journals  were 
bitter  foes,  and  were  kept  from  personal  violence  only 
from  fear  of  the  police.  A  heavy  blow  struck  at  "  old 
Bennett,"  the  "little  villain  of  the  Times,"  the  "bran- 
bread  eater "  and  u  white-coated  philosopher  of  the 
Tribune,"  or  some  other  editor,  would  give  an  idea  of 
a  most  unfriendly  relation  between  these  parties.  But 
the  fact  is,  there  is  no  class  of  men  in  this  city,  or  any 
other,  that  are  more  social,  friendly,  and  harmonious 
than  the  gentlemen  connected  with  the  leading  press 
of  New  York.  At  the  dinner  given  by  the  press  of 
New  York  to  Mr.  Dickens,  on  the  birthday  of  Shake- 
speare, Mr.  Bennett  received  the  unanimous  appoint- 
ment to  preside.  On  his  declining,  with  the  same 
unanimity  Mr.  Greeley  was  selected.  There  is  scarcely 
a  day  when  the  leading  editors,  representing  the  lead- 
ing political  and  religious  features  of  the  country,  do 
42 


658  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

not  meet  at  Delmonico's,  or  some  other  place,  for  a 
social  sit-down.  Conservatives  and  Radicals,  Democrats 
and  Republicans,  Catholics  and  Protestants,  conductors 
of  the  press,  strike  hands  over  a  plate  of  soup ;  and, 
after  unbending  for  an  hour,  go  back  to  their  several 
dens  to  renew  the  paper  warfare. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  659 


LXXXI. 

GENERAL  CHARLES  G.  HALPINE. 

THIS  gentleman,  so  well  known  by  his  nom  de  plume, 
Miles  O'Reilly,  was  one  of  the  most  talented,  versa- 
tile, and  popular  members  of  the  press.  He  was  a 
poet,  orator,  and  writer.  He  was  born  in  Ireland,  in 
July,  1829.  His  father  was  an  Episcopal  clergyman, 
and  his  ancestors,  on  both  sides,  were  either  in  the 
church  or  army.  Before  he  was  twenty-one,  he  im- 
bibed the  principles  of  the  "  Young  Ireland "  party, 
and  became  the  only  "  green  sprig "  in  an  intensely 
Orange  family.  His  father  died  about  the  time  Hal- 
pine  obtained  his  majority,  and  died  in  embarrassed 
circumstances.  Halpine  came  to  this  country,  and  set- 
tled in  Boston,  in  1852.  He  soon  made  his  mark  as  a 
writer  on  the  Boston  Post.  In  connection  with  B.  P. 
Shillaber  and  others,  he  started  the  "  Carpet  Bag,"  a 
semi-comic  weekly  paper,  which  had  a  large  circula- 
tion, but  came  to  an  untimely  end  for  want  of  proper 
business  management.  On  his  removal  to  New  York 
he  became  the  correspondent  of  the  Boston  Post,  and 
also  of  the  London  Morning  Chronicle.  He  wrote  the 
editorials  in  the  News  when  it  was  National  Democratic, 
and  subsequently  became  associate  editor  of  the  New 


660  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

York  Times.  In  1857  Halpine  purchased  one  third 
interest  in  the  Leader,  the  organ  of  Judge  Douglas. 
In  1858  he  became  assistant  district  attorney,  and  was 
elected  a  member  of  Tammany  Society.  There  was 
hardly  a  subordinate  office  in  the  city  that  he  did  not 
fill.  He  was  secretary  in  the  post  office,  clerk  of 
indictments,  secretary  of  the  street  department,  clerk 
of  chancery  records,  private  secretary  to  Mayor  Tie- 
mann ;  besides  rejecting  the  clerkship  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  and  various  other  offices.  During  all  this  time 
his  connection  with  the  daily  press  was  kept  up.  He 
wrote  for  the  Herald,  Times,  Tribune,  and  corresponded 
with  the  press  around  the  world.  He  contributed 
articles  for  Harper's,  Putnam's,  and  the  Atlantic.  His 
volume  of  poems  gave  him  much  distinction.  The 
lampoon  on  the  American  flag,  "  Hail,  thou  flaunt- 
ing lie ! "  was  published  in  the  Tribune.  It  brought 
down  severe  animadversions  on  Mr.  Greeley;  and 
though  Halpine  was  always  ready  to  acknowledge  the 
authorship,  the  editor  of  the  Tribune  would  not  allow 
him  to  do  so. 

In  April,  1861,  Halpine  went  out  as  second  lieuten- 
ant in  the  famous  Sixty-ninth  of  New  York.  He  aided 
in  throwing  up  Fort  Corcoran,  the  first  important  earth- 
work of  the  war.  He  was  gazetted  as  captain  in  June, 
and  rose  rapidly  till  he  became  assistant  adjutant-gen- 
eral in  the  field,  which  position  he  maintained  till  the 
close  of  the  war.  He  became  chief-of-staff  of  the 
Tenth  Army  Corps,  and  participated  in  all  the  opera- 
tions along  the  coast.  In  1862  he  was  on  the  staff  of 
General  Halleck,  then  general-in-chief.  He  was  ap- 
pointed to  several  positions  in  the  regular  army,  which 


IN  NEW  YORK.  661 

he  declined.  He  tendered  his  resignation  in  con- 
sequence of  the  loss  of  sight,  which  was  formally 
accepted  by  Secretary  Stanton,  in  a  manner  more  com- 
plimentary than  the  war  secretary  often  gave. 

On  his  return  to  the  city  he  resumed  his  connec- 
tion with  the  press,  which  he  did  not  entirely  suspend 
during  the  war.  He  started  a  weekly  paper,  which 
has  been  a  marked  success,  and  is  known  as  the  New 
York  Citizen.  The  office  of  register  is  one  of  the  most 
lucrative  in  New  York.  Tammany  Hall,  Mozart,  and 
the  Conservatives  had  each  a  candidate  for  register  in 
the  field.  Halpine  nominated  himself  for  the  office,  and 
won  the  prize  by  a  majority  of  twenty-two  thousand. 

When  General  Halpine  was  eighteen  years  of  age, 
he  married  a  young  English  lady,  whose  father  was  in 
the  army.  He  left  five  children,  two  sons  and  three 
daughters.  He  died  at  thirty-nine  years  of  age,  but 
looked  less  than  thirty.  Under  the  average  height, 
he  was  thick-set,  and  well  built,  with  light  hair,  and  an 
expressive  eye.  He  was  generous,  high-minded,  and 
hospitable.  He  made  friends  on  all  sides,  and  attached 
them  to  him  with  great  tenacity.  He  was  reliable  as 
a  friend,  and  courteous  to  those  who  differed  from  him. 
His  industry  was  indomitable.  He  worked  like  a 
draught-horse  ;  and  besides  his  duties  as  register,  which 
would  be  enough  for  an  ordinary  man,  his  literary 
labors  were  enough  for  an  editorial  staff 

General  Halpine  died  suddenly,  at  New  York,  Au- 
gust 2,  1868,  mourned  by  a  vast  number  of  friends. 
The  streets  through  which  the  funeral  cortege,  moved 
were  densely  crowded.  The  pall-bearers  comprised 
fourteen  of  the  most  distinguished  political,  literary, 
and  professional  gentlemen  of  the  city. 


662  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXXXII. 

R.    L.    AND    A.    STUART. 

THIS  house  is  one  of  the  old  firms  of  New  York.  It 
is  as  well  known  throughout  the  world  as  any  name  in 
America.  Fortune  and  fame  have  resulted  from  the 
manufacture  of  pure  and  excellent  candies.  The  old 
manufactory  on  Chambers  Street,  established  over  half 
a  century  ago,  still  abides.  The  candy  of  commerce, 
which  is  so  largely  manufactured  in  this  city,  is  un- 
wholesome and  poisonous.  The  white  earth  of  Ireland 
takes  the  place  of  sugar.  Common  paste  blacking  is  a 
substitute  for  liquorice.  Candies,  almonds,  cough-drops, 
and  lozenges  are  manufactured  out  of  clay ;  and  the 
essence  used  is  abstracted  from  fusil  oils,  which  are  of 
themselves  rank  poison.  The  slaughter-house  furnishes 
a  glutinous  matter  used  in  cheap  confectionery,  and 
manufacturers  are  notified  when  this  material  is  on 
hand.  The  Stuarts  have  always  manufactured  candies 
from  pure  sugar,  and  all  the  materials  used  are  of  the 
first  quality.  They  have  found  their  profit  in  this 
honorable  procedure.  Fifty  years  of  undeviating  recti- 
tude have  placed  this  house  among  the  millionnaires  of 
New  York. 

The  Stuarts  sprang  from  the  humblest  origin.  They 
were  Scotch-Irish.  The  father  was  indolent  and  in- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  663 

f 

temperate.  The  mother  was  intelligent,  industrious, 
and  pious.  Her  desire  was  to  preserve  her  boys  from 
want,  and  train  them  in  the  fear  of  the  Lord.  To  sup- 
port her  children,  the  mother  manufactured  molasses 
candy,  and  sent '  out  her  boys  to  sell  it.  The  candy 
was  toothsome,  and  uniformly  excellent,  and  found  a 
ready  market.  From  the  profits  of  the  trade  the 
mother  of  the  Stuarts  was  able  to  open  a  small  candy 
store.  From  this  humble  beginning  sprang  the  retail 
establishment  so  celebrated  in  the  city,  and  the  great 
sugar  refinery  of  the  house  so  famous  in  all  the  land. 
The  brothers  are  devout  Presbyterians,  and  are  among 
the  most  princely  donors  to  the  religious  enterprises 
of  that  important  sect.  Their  benefactions  are  not  con- 
fined to  the  members  of  their  own  faith.  Their  con- 
tributions to  every  good  work  are  large  as  the  sea. 

For  many  years  the  Stuarts  lived  in  Chambers  Street, 
adjoining  their  refinery.  One  of  the  firm  still  keeps 
his  residence  on  the  old  spot,  though  surrounded  by 
trade  and  the  clash  of  business.  The  other  has  moved 
into  the  aristocratic  locality  of  Fifth  Avenue,  where  he 
dwells  in  princely  style.  No  turnouts  in  Central  Park 
excel  in  style  and  beauty  those  driven  by  the  Stuarts. 
Springing  from  the  humblest  origin,  basing  their  busi- 
ness on  integrity,  they  show  in  their  success  what  New 
York  can  do  for  penniless  boys  who  are  willing  to  help 
themselves. 


664  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 


LXXXIII. 

JAMES     LENOX. 

MR.  LENOX  began  the  up-town  movement  when 
Fifth  Avenue  was  unpaved,  unlighted,  untenanted. 
He  built  himself  a  princely  mansion  of  brown-stone, 
unusual  in  those  days,  with  a  front  of  seventy-five 
feet  on  the  avenue.  It  was  through  his  influence  that 
the  Wall  Street  Church  was  removed  to  its  elegant 
location  on  Fifth  Avenue.  Of  this  church  Mr.  Lenox 
is  a  devout  and  liberal  member.  He  is  a  man  of  very 
cultivated  and  refined  tastes,  but  he  lives  retired 
and  without  show.  His  mansion  is  one  of  the  most 
splendid  in  the  city.  It  is  furnished  with  rare  mag- 
nificence. His  gallery  of  pictures  is  the  most  costly 
and  valuable  of  any  in  the  United  States.  He  has  a 
library  full  of  the  choicest  books  and  manuscripts  in 
America.  He  has  rare  and  expensive  editions  of  the 
Bible.  He  has  the  original  draught  of  Washington's 
Farewell  Address.  It  cost  Mr.  Lenox  two  thousand 
dollars.  He  would  not  part  with  it  for  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  This  residence  and  its  costly  adornings  are 
not  open  to  the  public.  To  a  limited  circle  of  con- 
fidential friends  the  mansion  is  at  times  thrown  open. 
Mr.  Lenox  has  a  country  seat  at  Newport,  but  he 


IN  NEW  YORK.  665 

prefers  his  New  York  residence,  because  there  he  can 
shut  out  the  world  and  be  retired.  His  benefactions 
are  very  large.  No  man  excels  him  in  this  except 
Daniel  Drew.  Mr.  Lenox  gives  away  annually  from 
sixty  to  a  hundred  thousand  dollars. 


666  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXXXIY. 

AUGUST    BELMONT. 

THE  house  of  Belmont  &  Co.,  in  New  York,  has  few 
superiors.  As  the  agent  of  the  Kothschilds,  this  house  is 
preeminent.  In  a  dingy  granite  building  on  Wall  Street, 
with  low,  dark  chambers,  plainly,  and,  in  comparison 
with  other  banking-houses,  meanly  furnished,  Belmont 
&  Co.  transact  their  immense  business.  There  is  noth- 
ing attractive  about  the  person  of  the  banker.  He  is 
a  Jew,  whose  countenance  and  speech  indicate  his 
nationality.  He  is  thick-set,  but  stinted  in  size.  He 
is  very  lame,  and  his  appearance  impresses  no  one. 
He  is  a  leading  politician,  and  makes  large  contribu- 
tions for  political  purposes,  and  receives  in  exchange 
the  chairmanship  of  important  committees.  His  wife 
was  the  daughter  of  Commodore  Perry,  on  whom  he 
settled  an  independent  fortune  before  marriage.  He 
lives  on  Fifth  Avenue,  in  a  very  large  but  plainly  built 
brick  mansion,  modelled  after  the  London  houses.  His 
picture  gallery  is  second  only  to  that  owned  by  Mr. 
Lenox.  Unlike  Mr.  Lenox,  he  does  not  close  his  house 
against  his  friends.  He  is  very  hospitable,  entertains 
very  largely  during  the  season,  and  in  princely  style. 
He  is  very  fond  of  masquerades  and  private  theatricals. 
He  often  takes  the  leading  characters,  and  imports  the 


IN  NEW  YORK.  667 

most  sumptuous  dresses  from  abroad  for  himself  and 
friends.  No  banker  in  New  York  can  spread  a  table 
covered  with  such  costly  plate.  A  quiet  man  in  busi- 
ness, very  decided,  and  using  but  few  words,  he  is  very 
genial,  with  a  great  flow  of  spirits  when  he  acts  the 
part  of  host,  or  joins  in  the  entertainments  of  his 
friends. 


668  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


'LXXXV. 

EDWIN    D.     MORGAN. 

A  NATIVE  of  Massachusetts,  Mr.  Morgan  came  to  New 
York  when  quite  young.  He  was  penniless,  and  began 
trade  in  as  small  way  as  can  be  imagined.  He  bartered 
for  a  while  in  the  products  of  his  native  state,  and  then 
set  up  the  grocery  business  in  as  small  way  as  can  well 
be  conceived.  With  a  plain,  common  school  education, 
he  had  a  good  deal  of  business  tact.  His  habits  were 
good,  and  by  strict  attention  to  business  he  slowly  but 
surely  improved  his  fortune.  He  became  a  wholesale 
trader,  and  from  his  grocery  establishment  on  Front 
Street  he  removed  to  Exchange  Place,  and  opened  the 
house  of  E.  D.  Morgan  &  Co.  He  became  a  bold 
operator  in  goods,  stocks,  and  real  estate.  His  clear 
brain  enabled  him  to  walk  safely  where  other  men 
stumbled.  He  made  money  where  other  men  lost  it. 
He  is  now  about  sixty  j^ears  of  age,  with  a  fortune 
estimated  at  one  million  of  dollars.  For  twenty  years 
he  has  been  in  political  life.  He  was  governor  of  the 
state  during  the  war,  and  is  now  United  States  senator. 
He  has  a  very  fine  mansion  on  Fifth  Avenue,  where  he 
dispenses  a  liberal  and  alegant  hospitality. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  669 


LXXXVI. 

THEATRES     IN    NEW    YORK. 

NOTHING  has  changed  more  than  the  New  York 
theatres.  The  opera  has  taken  the  place  of  drama, 
and  the  so-called  moral  plays  have  superseded  Shake- 
speare and  his  friends.  The  pit  has  departed,  and  in 
its  place  has  arisen  the  parquette,  the  most  reputable 
portion  of  the  house.  The  third  gallery  has  been 
removed,  never  to  return,  at  least  during  this  genera- 
tion. There  are  no  actors  in  New  York  of  any  note, 
and  the  pieces  put  on  the  stage,  except  at  Wallack's, 
are  a  burlesque.  The  retirement  of  Mrs.  Hoey  from 
the  stage  left  no  actress  of  any  name  to  gratify  New 
York.  Wallack's  Theatre  is  unexceptional  in  elegance, 
scenery,  the  manner  in  which  pieces  are  put  on  the 
stage,  and  in  the  dress  of  the  artists. 

The  Bowery  is  all  that  remains  of  the  theatre  of  the 
olden  time.  The  Bowery  Boys,  Plug  Uglies,  and  low 
New  York  patronize  this  place,  and  the  plays  are  of 
the  Dick  Turpin  and  blood-and-thunder  school.  Moral 
lessons  are  suggested  by  the  sight  of  the  upper  part  of 
this  institution,  and  the  crowded  condition  and  character 
of  the  audience,  that  can  be  found  nowhere  else.  An 
occasional  visit  of  an  artist  of  note  stirs  New  York  to 
its  centre.  But  the  performers  in  our  theatres  scarcely 


670  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

rise  to  the  dignity  of  second-rate  actors.  Billiards, 
cards,  costly  parties,  clubs,  and  dissipation  take  the 
place  of  play-going.  We  have  numerous  sensational 
play-houses,  where  small  actors  perform  small  plays, 
written  by  small  men.  But  the  era  of  sterling  drama 
and  talented  actors  is  in  the  past,  perhaps  never  to 
return. 


IN   NEW  YORK.  671 


LXXXVII. 

THE     NEW    YORK    YOUNG    MEN'S 
CHRISTIAN    ASSOCIATION. 

ORIGIN.  —  CONTROVERSY  ON  SLAVERY.  —  WHO  ORIGINATED  FULTON  STREET 
DAY  MEETING  ?  —  ASSOCIATION  AND  THE  WAR.  —  LARGE  WORK  OF  THE 
ASSOCIATION.  —  THE  NEW  HEADQUARTERS.  —  PURPOSE  OF  THE  ASSOCIA- 
TION. —  OUTSIDE  WORK. 

ORIGIN. 

THIS  benevolent  society  was  organized  16th  of  July, 
1852,  having  for  its  object  the  improvement  of  the 
spiritual,  mental,  and  social  condition  of  young  men. 
It  first  occupied  a  part  of  Stuyvesant  Institute,  No. 
659  Broadway,  and  after  various  removals  is  now  fixed 
in  neat  and  pleasant  rooms  at  the  corner  of  Broadway 
and  Twenty-second  Street,  from  which  there  will  prob- 
ably be  no  removal  until  the  Association  is  permanently 
established  in  its  new  building  at  the  corner  of  Twenty- 
third  Street  and  Fourth  Avenue,  which  will  probably 
be  completed  as  early  as  May,  1869.  The  Association 
has  wrought  a  good  work  among  the  young  men  of  the 
city  in  the  past,  and  has  done  much  for  their  elevation 
and  improvement.  By  many  it  has  heretofore  been 
looked  upon  as  an  experiment,  and  has  encountered 
much  opposition  from  some  quarters.  At  one  time 


672  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

quite  a  number  of  the  leading  clergymen  of  the  city 
took  strong  ground  against  it. 

CONTROVERSY    ON    SLAVERY. 

An  important  and  prolonged  controversy,  in  the 
winter  of  1856-57,  originating  in  a  dispute  about  the 
action  of  a  committee,  and  finally  involving  in  some 
degree  the  opinion  of  the  members  on  the  question  of 
slavery,  then  agitating  the  whole  community,  resulted 
in  the  withdrawal  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  persons, 
and  for  a  time  retarded  the  progress  of  the  Association. 
A  persistent  adherence  on  the  part  of  the  remaining 
members  to  the  special  work  for  which  the  society  was 
established,  and  a  growing  conviction  in  the  minds 
of  philanthropic  and  Christian  men  of  the  peculiar 
temptations  and  dangers  to  which  young  men  are 
exposed  in  this  city,  resulted  shortly  in  its  restoration 
to  the  place  in  the  confidence  of  our  citizens  which  it 
had  formerly  held.  Since  that  time  the  Association 
has  been  steadily  advancing  in  public  favor,  until  now 
there  are  few  who  question  its  usefulness  and  value 
as  an  agency  in  opposing  the  inroads  of  evil  and 
wickedness. 

WHO    ORIGINATED   FULTON   STREET    DAY   MEETING? 

More  than  one  year  before  the  Fulton  Street  prayer- 
meeting  was  held  under  its  present  management,  a 
committee  of  this  society  held  in  that  now  doubly 
sacred  consistory  a  noonday  prayer-meeting.  These 
meetings  were  suspended  in  July,  1856,  and  in  the 
autumn  of  that  year  they  were  resumed  under  the 
present  direction,  and  have  ever  since  so  continued. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  673 


ASSOCIATION  AND    THE    WAR. 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  war  this  Association  took 
the  lead  in  the  work  subsequently  prosecuted  by  the 
Christian  Commission,  and  for  a  long  time  were  almost 
alone.  On  the  27th  of  May,  1861,  their  army  com- 
mittee began  its  work.  It  was  prosecuted  in  various 
forms  about  this  city,  in  the  camps,  and  among  the 
soldiers  temporarily  here,  until  the  battle  of  Bull  Run, 
when  it  was  extended  to  the  camps  and  hospitals  about 
Washington.  It  assumed  such  gigantic  proportions 
that  this  Association  urged  a  combination  of  all  kindred 
societies  for  its  prosecution,  and  finally,  in  response  to  the 
urgent  requests  of  the  army  committee,  a  convention 
of  these  associations  met  in  the  rooms  of  the  New  York 
society  on  the  15th  of  November,  1861,  when  the 
Christian  Commission  was  formed.  In  the  prosecution 
of  this  work  an  army  hymn-book  was  published  by 
the  committee,  of  which  one  hundred  and  fifty  thou- 
sand copies  were  circulated  among  the  soldiers.  During 
the  summer  of  1862;  while  large  numbers  of  wounded 
soldiers  from  the  Peninsula  were  in  the  hospitals 
about  the  city,  a  committee  of  night-watchers,  com- 
posed of  members  and  friends  of  the  Association,  of 
more  than  three  hundred,  was  organized,  which  ren- 
dered an  invaluable  service  through  the  whole  of  that 
sad  season.  Each  person  held  himself  ready  to  spend 
the  night  at  any  hospital  which  should  be  indicated 
two  days  in  advance  by  the  chairman  of  the  committee.  - 
The  Association  is  entitled  to  great  credit  for  this  work, 
which  is  akin  to  that  in  which  like  societies  have 
engaged  in  other  cities  where  pestilence  has  prevailed. 
43 


674  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LARGE    WORK    OF   THE    ASSOCIATION. 

It  is  not  among  the  least  of  the  good  works  of  this 
Association  that  it  has  aroused  the  attention  of  think- 
ing people  to  the  peculiar  condition  and  needs  of  the 
young  men  of  this  city.  The  special  efforts  put  forth 
in  this  direction  more  recently  deserve  mention.  An 
elaborate  pamphlet,  in  form  a  skeleton  of  an  argument 
upon  this  subject,  was  issued  some  two  years  since, 
which  was  circulated  extensively  among  newspaper 
editors,  clergymen,  and  our  leading  citizens  of  other 
callings ;  this  was  followed  by  the  publication  of  a  series 
of  letters  received  by  officers  of  the  Association  support- 
ing the  position  taken  in  the  pamphlet.  These  at- 
tracted much  attention,  were  made  the  subject  of 
many  leading  newspaper  articles,  and  were  adverted 
to  and  commented  upon  largely  in  sermons  and  public 
addresses. 

THE   NEW    HEADQUARTERS. 

The  Association  reaped  an  immediate  advantage  in 
their  effort  to  collect  a  sum  sufficient  to  erect  a  build- 
ing commensurate  with  the  work  in  hand.  Already 
some  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  dollars 
have  been  placed  under  the  control  of  a  board  of 
trustees,  specially  created  by  an  act  of  the  legislature 
to  hold  the  real  estate  of  the  Association.  For  the 
completion  of  the  building  as  now  contemplated,  how- 
ever, one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  more  will 
be  required. 

A  fine  plot  of  ground,  of  more  than  six  full  lots,  has 
been  purchased  on  the  corner  of  Twenty-third  Street 
and  Fourth  Avenue,  where  ground  has  already  been 


IN   NEW   YORK.  675 

broken  for  the  proposed  building,  which  is  to  be  one 
hundred  and  seventy-five  feet  on  the  street  and  eighty- 
three  feet  on  the  avenue,  and  five  stories  high.  The 
material  is  red  brick,  with  light  stone  trimmings ;  the 
style  of  architecture  either  Kenaissance  or  Gothic,  with 
Mansard  roof.  The  first  floor  is  appropriated  to  stores, 
and  the  fourth  and  fifth  to  studies.  From  these  a 
rental  is  expected  sufficient  to  carry  on  much  of  the 
work  of  the  Association. 

The  second  and  third  stories  are  set  apart  for  the 
purposes  of  the  Association.  There  is  to  be  a  fine 
reading-room ;  library  with  space  for  thirty  thousand 
volumes ;  a  lecture-room  which  will  seat  fifteen  hundred 
persons ;  convenient  class-rooms,  parlors,  a  conversation- 
room,  and  a  commodious  gymnasium.  Here  it  is  pro- 
posed to  carry  on  the  work  contemplated  by  the 
Association  at  its  organization,  upon  a  scale  somewhat 
corresponding  with  the  proportions  of  the  field  before  it. 

PURPOSE    OP   THE   ASSOCIATION. 

No  pains  will  be  spared  to  keep  prominent,  and  to 
realize  the  great  moral  and  religious  objects  of  the 
society;  nor  is  it  designed  to  neglect  any  secondary- 
means  or  objects  consistent  with  the  grand  purpose, 
for  it  is  held  by  the  Association  that  genuine  radical 
reforms,  unquestioned  elevation  and  improvement,  are 
formed  only  in  a  real  change  of  heart,  and  complete 
personal  dedication  to  the  service  of  Christ. 

Already  the  foundation  has  been  laid  for  a  theologi- 
cal reference  library,  and  the  collection  of  books  is 
even  now  extensive ;  but  the  expectation  is  to  make  it 
complete  in  all  departments,  so  that  no  one  need  com- 


676  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

plain  of  a  lack  of  means  to  investigate  any  department 
of  religious  or  theological  truth  or  speculation,  or  any 
phase  of  religious  belief,  even  the  most  peculiar.  This 
collection  will  be  free  to  all  when  completed,  as  it  is 
now  in  its  beginning. 

It  is  aimed,  in  the  new  building  with  its  commodious 
rooms,  to  make  free  lectures,  and  classes  upon  topics 
and  studies  most  useful  to  young  men,  a  leading  feature ; 
and  plans  are  now  under  consideration  touching  these 
matters. 

The  gymnasium  will  be  large,  scientifically  arranged, 
thoroughly  furnished,  and  free  to  all  members  of  the 
Association. 

OUTSIDE    WORK. 

While  laying  plans  for  this  central  building,  the 
board  of  directors  have  not  forgotten  the  more  remote 
sections  of  the  city.  They  look  to  branches,  as  aids  in 
reaching  young  men. 

Already  one  is  in  full  and  successful  operation  in 
Yarick  Street,  near  Canal,  conducted  much  upon  the 
plan  of  the  parent  society ;  another  in  Wooster  Street 
for  the  colored  young  men ;  one  in  Ludlow  Street  for 
the  Germans.  Another  is  now  being  organized  in 
Harlem,  and  yet  another  in  Grand  Street,  not  far  from 
the  East  River.  It  is  not  supposed  that  these  will 
meet  the  wants  of  the  young  men  of  the  city,  but 
some  three  or  four  others  are  in  contemplation. 

Every  effort  is  made  by  the  officers  of  the  Associa- 
tion to  employ,  and  develop,  and  increase  the  working 
power  of  the  members,  now  more  than  sixteen  hun- 
dred in  number.  The  various  committees  are  made 
as  large  as  possible,  while  retaining  compactness  and 


IN  NEW   YORK.  677 

efficiency,  and  the  aim  is  to  have  each  person  render 
some  real  service.  There  is  something  for  every  one 
to  do,  —  money  to  be  raised ;  young  men  to  be  invited 
to  the  rooms  ;  to  be  introduced  to  good  boarding-houses, 
to  suitable  companions,  and  places  of  employment,  and 
agreeable  church  connections ;  prayer-meetings  to  be 
sustained,  the  sick  and  destitute  to  be  visited ;  and  thus 
each  young  man,  while  made  a  missionary  to  others,  is 
being  trained  among  those  of  his  own  age  for  the  best 
works  of  charity.  And  many  of  the  leading  men  in 
middle  life  in  our  city,  and  in  the  land,  began  their 
philanthropic  and  Christian  work  in  this  Association.  As 
greater  experence  is  acquired,  this  scheme  for  training 
young  men,  while  rendering  them  at  present  useful, 
will  operate  with  greater  efficiency.  And  the  power 
-of  the  Association  for  good  will  be  more  than  cor- 
respondingly increased  when  the  new  building  is  ready 
for  occupation.  All  through  its  history  there  have 
been  many  capable  and  talented  young  men  in  the 
board  of  directors,  and  active  on  the  committees ;  and 
it  is  safe  to  say  that  at  no  former  period  has  there  been 
connected  with  it  so  large  a  number  of  men,  well  and 
favorably  known  to  all  our  citizens,  and  so  largely 
enjoying  their  confidence,  as  now.  In  this  respect  the 
Association  will  not  suffer  in  comparison  with  any 
corporation  in  the  city,  secular  or  religious. 


678  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXXXVIII. 
ADMIRAL    DAVID     G.     FARRAGUT. 

EARLY  LIFE.  — HEROIC  RESOLUTION.  — HE  BECOMES  A  STUDENT.  — VALUE  OF 
ONE  BOOK.  —  THE  GREAT  LESSON  TAUGHT.  —  PERSONAL. 

ADMIRAL  FARRAGUT,  now  a  resident  of  New  York,  was 
born  in  Knox  County,  Tennessee,  but  his  father  made 
Louisiana  his  home  when  David  was  a  child.  It  was 
understood  that  he  was  a  native  of  New  Orleans.  Mr. 
Lincoln  thought  that  the  son  of  so  brave  a  man  as 
Commodore  Farragut,  to  whom  President  Jefferson 
intrusted  the  defence  of  New  Orleans,  would  be  a 
suitable  man  to  take  care  of  that  city,  and  open  the 
navigation  of  the  river  to  the  Gulf.  On  his  arrival,  the 
rebels  claimed  him  as  a  native  born  Louisianian,  who 
would  at  once  desert  the  old  flag  and  follow  his  state. 
To  all  proposals  he  had  but  one  answer.  He  was  no 
Louisianian,  he  said ;  he  was  a  simple  citizen  of  the 
United  States.  He  owed  allegiance  only  to  the  flag  of 
his  country.  His  father,  he  said,  was  sent  to  New 
Orleans  to  suppress  the  treason  of  Burr,  and  he  now 
came  down  to  suppress  the  treason  of  secession. 

EARLY   LIFE. 

David  took  to  the  sea  naturally.  His  father  was  a 
sailor  before  him  —  a  .  brave,  bold,  honest  man.  He 


IN  NEW   YORK.  679 

held  an  honorable  place  in  our  navy.  Small  as  it  was 
then,  it  did  some  valiant  things.  David  early  exhibited 
manly  courage  and  heroism.  It  is  not  only  on  the 
battle-field  that  courage  can  be  seen.  A  boy  may  be 
brave  in  resisting  temptation,  in  refusing  to  do  a  wrong 
action,  in  refusing  to  join  in  deeds  forbidden  or  im- 
moral, in  standing  by  the  right  when  that  is  the 
unpopular  side,  in  subduing  his  passions  and  appetites, 
in  breaking  off  bad  habits ;  Farragut  was  in  all  this  as 
brave  when  a  boy  as  he  was  when  he  lashed  himself 
to  the  mast  in  Mobile  Bay. 

HEROIC    RESOLUTION. 

David  found  in  the  navy  gay  companions.  They 
smoked,  chewed,  drank,  and  swore.  It  was  not  strange 
that  young  Farragut  should  fall  into  the  same  habits. 
He  was  a  gay  young  man — jovial,  merry,  and  knew 
how  to  have  a  good  time.  But  he  early  saw  that  the  gay 
young  men  did  not  rise  in  their  profession,  and  knew 
little  of  promotion.  With  most  of  them  drinking  grew 
with  their  growth,  and  they  became  drunkards.  With 
the  same  courage  that  gained  him  renown  later  in  life, 
Farragut  resolved  to  rise  in  his  profession,  and  to  cut 
loose  from  every  habit  that  prevented  his  reaching  the 
highest  grade  of  the  navy.  He  abandoned  at  once,  in 
a  day,  the  use  of  tobacco,  profanity,  strong  drink,  and 
so  overcame  himself;  and  when  but  sixteen  years  of 
age  he  flung  aside  those  lusts  and  appetites,  customs 
and  pastimes,  in  which  the  young  so  generally  indulge, 
as  hinderances  to  his  success.  He  mastered  his  profes- 
sion ;  did  all  that  he  did  well.  From  the  start  to  the 
crowning  honors  of  an  admiral  he  could  be  trusted.  No 


680  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

questions  of  ease,  safety,  or  personal  comfort  stood 
between  him  and  his  duty.  He  was  unflinching  in  his 
integrity  and  fidelity  as  he  was  in  pluck. 

HE   BECOMES  A    STUDENT. 

He  knew  that  he  must  be  intelligent  as  well  as 
brave  and  plucky.  Industry  and  application  would 
enable  him  to  gain  enough  knowledge  to  make  him  an 
intelligent  seaman.  He  had  no  college  training ;  but 
he  knew  that  application  would  make  amends  for  any 
deficiency  of  early  education.  He  had  all  that  per- 
tained to  the  profession  he  had  chosen.  He  was  a  close 
student,  and  to  his  books  he  owed  all  that  distinguished 
him  in  later  life. 

VALUE    OF   ONE   BOOK. 

Admiral  Farragut  is  indebted  to  one  book  for  the 
most  heroic  feat  connected  with  his  name.  He  found 
an  old  history  of  the  war  between  the  English  and 
French  in  Canada.  In  that  war  the  English  had  been 
repeatedly  defeated.  A  long  line  of  disasters  had 
marked  their  career.  Commodore  Boscawen  was  in 
command  of  the  fleet.  Wolfe  was  second  in  command. 
Commodore  Boscawen  had  asked  to  have  placed  under 
him  a  Scotch  commander.  He  selected  him  because  he 
was  a  *  brave  and  accomplished  man,  of  unflinching 
integrity.  The  commander  decided  to  land  troops  in 
the  sight  of  the  intrenched  French  soldiers.  It  was 
regarded  as  foolhardy,  and  a  council  of  war  was  called 
by  the  commander  of  the  army  to  consult  on  the 
matter.  To  this  council  Commodore  Boscawen  was 
invited.  He  neither  accepted  nor  declined.  He  prom- 


IN   NEW   YORK.  681 

ised  to  consider  the  matter,  and  give  an  answer  when 
his  mind  was  made  up.  He  signalled  the  Scotch  com- 
mander to  come  on  board  his  ship.  He  laid  the  case 
before  him  of  the  peril  of  landing  the  troops.  "  Leave 
that  to  me,"  said  the  brave  old  sailor ;  "  I  can  land  them. 
Give  me  the  authority,  and  I  will  place  the  French  and 
English  side  by  side,  and  let  them  fight  it  out."  To 
the  astonishment  and  dismay  of  the  officers  and  men, 
the  order  ran  along  the  ship  that  the  troops  were  to  be 
landed  at  once.  Against  this  order  Wolfe  protested,  but 
the  Scotchman  was  immovable.  His  orders  were  to 
land  the  troops.  He  should  do  it.  Finding  all  re- 
monstrance vain,  and  that  troops  would  be  landed,  and 
the  French  attacked,  Wolfe  then  claimed  the  right  to 
lead  the  expedition,  and  told  him  that  the  time  had 
come  when  he  could  display  his  peculiar  qualities  by 
giving  him  good  advice.  He  bade  him  utter  his  opin- 
ions freely,  and  with  an  honest  heart.  The  Scotch 
commander  spoke  instantly :  i(  Have  nothing  to  do 
with  this  council  of  war.  It  is  a  coward's  refuge. 
These  officers  do  not  want  to  fight,  and  the  council  is 
to  save  them.  We  have  had  a  succession  of  defeats 
and  disasters,  and  the  country  wants  success.  The 
country  will  have  success.  You  must  give  it  to  them ; 
land  your  troops,  and  let  them  fight  it  out." 

Admiral  Farragut  informed  the  writer  that  when  he 
made  the  resolution  to  pass  the  batteries  at  Port 
Hudson ;  when  all  the  fleet  went  back  except  the  vessel 
that  was  lashed  to  his  ship,  and  that  would  have  gone 
back  if  it  could  have  got  away ;  when  he  was  lashed 
to  the  mast  in  Mobile  Bay,  he  had  the  heroic  conduct 
of  the  old  Scotch  commander  before  him.  It  was  only 


682  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

death  if  he  did  not  succeed;  and  success  would  give 
new  life  to  the  nation.  And  in  all  his  career  in  the 
late  war  he  heard  a  voice  sounding  in  his  ear,  "  Your 
country  wants  success;  your  country  will  have  success; 
you  must  give  her  success."  We  had  been  beaten 
on  the  land  and  on  the  sea.  Our  iron-clads  and  mon- 
itors were  taken  or  sunk.  Farragut  was  on  the  Mis- 
sissippi. It  was  his  task  to  open  the  river ;  and  to  do 
this,  it  was  needful  to  pass  Port  Hudson.  It  would 
gain  for  our  country  an  immense  advantage.  The  at- 
tempt was  dangerous.  Men  called  it  foolhardy.  But 
the  admiral  had  his  father's  pluck  and  his  father's 
example  before  him,  and  the  success  of  the  brave  old 
commander.  He  lashed  a  gun-boat  to  the  side  of  the 
"  dear  old  Hartford,"  as  Mrs.  Farragut  called  the  ship, 
and  ordered  the  fleet  to  follow.  But  all  were  driven 
back  but  the  Hartford  by  the  terrible  fire  from  the 
fort.  The  admiral  took  his  life  in  his  hands.  The 
occasion  was  worthy  of  the  sacrifice,  and  the  old  ship 
came  safely  through.  In  the  midst  of  the  hottest  fire 
he  thought  of  the  old  history  he  read  when  a  boy. 

THE    GREAT   LESSON   TAUGHT. 

Admiral  Farragut  chose  early  and  with  care  the 
profession  he  intended  to  adopt.  By  study  and  dili- 
gence he  fitted  himself  for  a  high  position  in  that 
calling.  He  put  a  full  and  final  end  to  bad  habits  and 
practices  at  war  with  success.  He  was  bold  and  brave 
in  cutting  away  from  private  indulgences  that  have 
ruined  many  as  talented  and  hopeful  as  he.  He  is 
trusty,  honest,  capable,  and  faithful  in  all  places  and 
times.  To  success  talents  are  needful,  with  intelligence; 


IN   NEW   YORK.  683 

for  brain   rules  muscle.     But  moral  brain   leads  all. 
Without  it  no  one  can  stand  high  or  stand  long. 

PERSONAL. 

Admiral  Farragut  is  small  of  stature,  and  is  quite 
stout,  with  an  agreeable  face,  wreathed  in  smiles.  He 
is  unobtrusive  in  manners,  and  the  last  man  in  the 
fleet  that  would  be  taken  for  the  most  successful  and 
the  bravest  man  in  the  navy.  The  flash  of  his  eye 
shows  that  he  knows  how  to  command.  His  career  is 
worthy  the  study  and  imitation  of  the  youth  of 
America. 


684  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


LXXXIX. 

DORLAN'S,    FULTON    MARKET. 

NEW  YORK  is  the  great  place  for  business  success, 
provided  men  begin  right,  and  carry  on  their  business 
on  principle.  There  is  no  place  in  the  world  where 
integrity,  honor,  and  industry  are  so  good  a  capital. 
A  man  may  begin  anywhere,  do  anything,  —  dig  gravel, 
black  boots,  peddle  peanuts,  keep  an  apple  stand,  open 
a  small  candy  store,  carry  around  letter  paper  to  sell 
'by  the  sheet.  If  he  trades  on  honor,  does  his  business 
well,  has  tact  and  brains,  he  will  come  to  the  surface. 

Dorian's  oyster  establishment,  in  Fulton  Market,  is 
one  of  the  most  noted  places  in  the  city.  Go  to  any 
part  of  the  country,  and  to  any  part  of  the  world,  and 
mention  oysters,  and  Dorian's  name  will  come  up. 
66  Dorian's,"  as  it  is  called,  is  a  small  den  of  a  place.  It 
is  as  plainly  furnished  as  can  be  conceived.  The  tables 
are  without  cloths.  The  floors  are  without  carpets. 
White  delf  ware  is  used,  but  all  is  scrupulously  clean. 
No  opera,  soiree,  fashionable  palace,  can  boast  of  a 
more  fashionably  dressed  and  distinguished  company. 
Fastidious  ladies,  who  at  home  dwell  in  splendid 
boudoirs  and  sit  in  perfumed  chambers,  take  Dorian's 
on  their  way  from  the  opera,  for  a  stew  or  a  saddle- 
rock  roast.  Gentlemen  who  have  rosewood  tables  on 


IN  NEW   YORK.  685 

Turkey  carpets,  eat  off  of  porcelain  and  silver  ware, 
whose  dining-rooms  are  perfumed  with  the  choicest 
flowers,  thankfully  accept  a  stool  without  a  back  to  it 
at  Dorian's,  and  are  jostled  by  the  crowd.  The  belles 
and  madams  of  the  upper  ten  often  stand  in  a  row 
awaiting  their  turn. 

Over  thirty  years  ago  Mr.  Dorian  commenced  busi- 
ness near  the  site  where  his  present  establishment 
stands.  He  is  an  original  Knickerbocker,  and  was 
born  not  far  from  his  present  place  of  business.  He 
had  nothing  to  rely  upon  but  his  industry  and  his 
character.  He  formed  a  few  simple  rules,  on  which  his 
whole  business  career  has  been  based.  These  rules 
have  led  to  permanent  success.  He  is  a  very  wealthy 
man,  and  has  earned  every  dollar  that  he  enjoys  in  his 
little  crib,  where  he  can  be  daily  found  during  the 
hours  of  business. 

Among  other  rules  he  has  acted  upon  is  this,  — per- 
sonal attention  to  business.  During  his  whole  career  this  trait 
has  marked  Mr.  Dorian.  He  can  be  found  as  earnestly 
engaged  in  business  to-day  as  when  he  had  a  fortune  to 
make.  He  is  a  tall,  compact,  well-made  man,  with 
sandy  hair  and  complexion,  and  the  look  of  a  pilot,  or 
one  accustomed  to  the  sea.  His  business  is  entirely  a 
cash  business.  He  buys  and  sells  for  himself;  is  his 
own  cashier  and  book-keeper.  The  desk,  at  which  he 
stands  by  the  hour,  commands  every  customer,  every 
servant,  and  the  many  glowing  furnaces  on  which  the 
luscious  oyster  is  cooked.  No  one  passes  in  or  out 
without  passing  before  him.  He  makes  no  bad  debts. 
His  servants  cannot  cheat  him,  nor  can  they  neglect 
their  duty.  With  his  coat  off,  sleeves  rolled  up,  with- 


686  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

out  a  hat,  indoors  and  out,  he  receives  all  orders,  sees 
that  every  guest  is  served  and  courteously  attended  to. 

Never  sell  a  lad  article,  was  another  rule  adopted  by 
Mr.  Dorian  at  the  start.  He  keeps  nothing  but  first- 
class  oysters,  and  everybody  in  the  country  knows  it. 
No  one  asks,  "  Will  you  give  me  a  good  stew  to-day  ?  " 
"  Have  you  got  good  oysters  ? "  His  oils  are  a  specialty, 
and  are  sent  for  from  all  parts  of  the  state.  Indeed, 
they  are  sent  for  from  the  South  and  the  Pacific  coast. 
His  butter  comes  from  special  dairies,  and  is  always 
first-class.  No  merchant  is  more  jealous  of  his  honor, 
or  that  his  paper  shall  not  be  protested,  and  his  credit 
stand  fair,  than  Mr.  Dorian  is  that  the  reputation  of  his 
establishment  shall  be  maintained.  His  care  over  these 
little  things  has  brought  him  a  fortune,  and  underlaid 
his  success. 

He  trusts  nothing  to  subordinates.  He  delegates 
nothing.  He  superintends  all  orders,  and  some  roasts 
and  stews  that  are  a  specialty  in  his  establishment 
he  cooks  himself.  He  could  have  left  business  with 
a  fortune  long  ago,  but  he  is  of  an  active,  healthy 
temperament,  and  he  must  do  something  with  himself, 
and  he  prefers  business  to  idleness.  He  is  not  ashamed 
to  attend  to  his  business,  nor  afraid  to  let  men  see  him 
at  his  work.  He  has  seen  great  changes  during  the 
thirty  years  of  his  service.  Millionnaires  have  been 
swept  away  by  battalions.  Leaders  of  the  ton,  who 
patronize  Dorian  by  eating  his  stews,  but  who  cannot 
now  get  trusted  for  a  roast,  are  thick  as  autumn  leaves. 
The  few  merchants  of  New  York  who  began  life  with 
Dorian  thirty  years  ago,  and  who  have  a  fortune  to 
show  at  the  close  of  that  long  period,  are  men  who, 


IN  NEW   YORK.  687 

like  Dorian,  started  business  and  continued  it  on  the 
principles  of  personal  attention,  integrity,  and  industry. 
Any  one  desiring  business  success  in  New  York  will 
find  no  place  more  worthy  of  a  visit  than  Dorian's,  at 
Fulton  Market,  and  no  character  more  worthy  of  being 
studied  than  that  of  the  quiet,  intelligent,  courteous 
gentleman  who  can  be  found  daily  at  his  work,  and 
whose  name  is  known  where  ever  civilization  extends, 
and  is  never  mentioned  without  honor. 


SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XC. 
ROMAN    CATHOLICS     IN    NEW    YORK. 

INTRODUCTION  OF  CATHOLICISM    INTO  NEW  YORK. ITS  PRESENT  POSITION.  — 

ARCHBISHOP    MCCLOSKEY,  *• 

PRACTICALLY,  in  this  city,  Catholicism  is  the  state 
religion.  It  carries  the  city  at  every  election.  It 
holds  every  position  of  emolument  and  trust  within 
the  bounds  of  the  municipality.  A  few  officers  are 
appointed  who  are  nominal  Protestants.  But  these 
are  as  obsequious  as  members  of  the  Romish  commun- 
ion. A  distinguished  member  of  the  New  York  bar, 
who  was  in  communion  with  the  Reformed  Dutch 
Church,  told  me  that  he  was  offered  a  judgeship  in  the 
city,  coupled  with  conditions  with  which,  as  a  Protes- 
tant and  a  Christian,  he  could  not  comply.  Another, 
with  an  easier  conscience,  took  the  position  on  the 
supreme  bench.  Large  annual  sums  are  appropriated 
to  carry  on  the  work  of  the  Catholics,  and  are  paid  out 
of  the  city  funds.  Valuable  plots  of  land,  under  one 
pretence  and  another,  have  been  donated  and  used  for 
strictly  sectarian  purposes.  To  keep  the  poor  Catholic 
children  out  of  the  Mission  Schools  at  Five  Points 
and  elsewhere,  and  to  keep  them  under  Catholic  in- 
struction, a  society  was  formed,  founded  by,  and  long 


IN  NEW  YORK.  689 

under  the  care  of,  the  late  Dr.  Iris,  at  one  time  Protes- 
tant bishop  of  North  Carolina,  Hundreds  of  children 
were  gathered  into  this  society,  and  the  city  govern- 
ment appropriated  thousands  of  dollars  every  year  for 
their  support.  The  society  is  wholly  sectarian,  de- 
signed to  build  up  this  particular  sect. 

Our  large  charitable  institutions  are  almost  wholly 
under  the  control  of  the  Catholic  priests;  they  have 
the  run  of  the  institutions ;  especial  privileges  are 
granted  as  to  hours  of  service ;  especial  conveniences 
are  fitted  up  for  Catholic  worship ;  while  Protestants 
have  to  take  things  as  they  find  them.  At  the  Tombs, 
the  women  and  children  are  under  the  charge  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity.  To  this  class  Protestant  ministers 
and  laymen  can  have  no  access  at  all.  A  fine  chapel, 
in  a  retired  portion  of  the  prison,  fitted  up  with  all  the 
paraphernalia  of  Catholic  worship,  at  the  expense  of 
the  city,  is  used  for  service.  No  one  is  allowed  to 
enter  it  while  worship  is  going  on.  A  priest  is  em- 
ployed, and  music,  with  all  the  attractions  of  the 
Romish  service,  is  introduced.  Protestant  worship  on 
Sunday  is  held  in  the  great  hall,  without  convenience 
or  decency,  amid  the  jabber  and  .talk  of  prisoners  in 
their  cells,  not  one  of  whom  can  be  seen  ;  with  the 
crowd  taken  from  the  bummers'  cell,  gathered  in  an 
indiscriminate  mass  on  the  pavement,  squatting,  kneel- 
ing, lying  down,  and  jabbering,  amid  the  locking  and 
unlocking  of  cell  doors,  the  shouting  of  officers,  the 
tramping  of  prisoners  to  and  from  the  court,  and  gen- 
eral disturbance. 

Recently  the  Common  Council  have  forbidden  lay- 
men   to    visit    prisons    and    almshouses    for   religious 
44 


690  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

instruction ;  thus  almost  completely  banishing  Prot- 
testant  teaching  from  these  institutions.  For  years  a 
large  corps  of  devoted  religious  men  have  given  their 
Sundays  to  this  work.  There  are  few  Protestant  min- 
isters that  can  leave  their  churches,  and  the  new  law 
has  almost  banished  everything  but  Catholicism  from 
our  public  institutions. 

INTRODUCTION    OF   CATHOLICISM   INTO    NEW    YORK. 

Father  Isaac  Jaques,  a  Jesuit,  in  1642  introduced 
Catholicism  into  this  state.  He  was  seized  by  a  party 
of  Indians  in  Huron  County,  and  most  cruelly  treated. 
His  captivity  lasted  fifteen  months.  He  escaped  to 
Fort  Orange,  now  the  city  of  Albany.  The  Indians 
demanded  their  prisoner,  and  threatened  to  take  re- 
venge with  tomahawk  and  torch.  The  Dutch  refused 
to  give  him  up,  and  sent  him  to  New  York  for  safety. 
They  pacified  the  Indians  by  paying  his  ransom. 
They  gave  him  his  passage  on  the  first  vessel  sailing 
for  Europe,  together  with  a  safe  pass,  that  he  might 
not  be  harmed  on  his  journey ;  paid  all  his  expenses, 
and  ordered  that  he  should  be  landed  in  France.  In 
1683,  three  Jesuits  resided  at  New  York  for  a  time, 
and  opened  a  college.  The  Catholic  element  was  too 
weak  to  support  it.  The  brief  record  of  the  time  is,  — 
"  Mr.  Graham,  Judge  Palmer,  and  John  Tud.ar  did 
contribute  their  sons  for  some  time,  but  noboddy  imi- 
tating them,  the  college  vanished."  The  British  gov- 
ernment tolerated  the  Catholic  religion  in  Canada,  but 
not  in  New  York.  In  1778  a  French  man-of-war  was 
taken  by  the  English  and  brought  to  New  York.  The 
chaplain,  M.  De  La  Motte,  was  put  on  parole,  and  visited 


IN  NEW  YORK.  691 

the  city.  He  asked  permission  of  the  British  com- 
mander to  celebrate  mass,  at  the  request  of  the  few 
Catholics  in  the  city.  He  received  a  peremptory  re- 
fusal. He  celebrated  the  mysteries  of  his  faith  not- 
withstanding. He  was  arrested,  and  confined  in  prison 
till  exchanged.  The  old  Dutch  Church,  now  used  as  a 
post  office  in  this  city,  was  occupied  at  that  time  by 
the  English  troops  as  a  riding-school  and  a  hospital. 
Here  it  is  supposed  M.  De  La  Motte  was  confined. 
On  the  evacuation  of  New  York  by  the  British,  public 
worship  commenced,  and  St.  Peter's  Church,  in  Barclay 
Street,  was  erected.  The  State  of  New  York  granted 
the  act  of  incorporation  in  1785.  The  Spanish  ambas- 
sador laid  the  corner-stone  of  St.  Peter's  in  1786;  and 
Charles  the  Third  presented  a  handsome  sum  for  the 
erection  of  the  building.  New  York  was  erected  into 
a  see,  April  8,  1808,  by  Pope  Pius  VII.  From  that 
time  to  the  present  the  course  of  this  church  has  been 
onward,  till  it  is  the  great  power  in  this  metropolis. 

ITS    PRESENT    POSITION. 

It  has  churches  and  a  ministry  suited  to  every  class 
of  its  worshippers,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest.  It 
has  an  enormous  property  in  real  estate  in  the  most 
valuable  localities.  Its  churches,  large  and  numerous 
as  they  are,  bear  no  proportion  to  its  worshippers. 
Each  church  holds  a  dozen  congregations  a  day,  and 
each  service  is  crowded.  The  cathedral,  in  the  process 
of  erection  on  Fifth  Avenue,  has  not  only  one  of  the 
most  commanding  positions,  but  will  be  one  of  the 
most  costly  and  magnificent  churches  on  this  conti- 
nent. The  revenue  of  the  church  is  immense.  Every 


692  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

member  of  its  countless  congregations  has  to  contribute 
to  its  maintenance ;  and  all  do  so,  from  the  least  unto 
the  greatest.  Every  worshipper  has  to  pay  pew  rent, 
and  contribute  to  the  work  of  the  church.  When  a 
contribution  is  taken,  collectors  are  appointed,  who  go 
from  pew  to  pew  during  service,  call  up  the  wor- 
shipper from  his  knees,  get  his  money,  and  then  leave 
him  to  his  devotions. 

Among  all  the  Protestant  sects  there  are  not  as 
many  discordant  elements  or  as  much  disunion  as 
among  the  Catholics.  They  are  divided  into  clans  and 
nationalities,  and  often  give  the  archbishop  great 
trouble,  and  defy  his  authority.  The  union  is  apparent, 
but  not  real.  More  than  once  in  this  city  the  trustees 
have  shut  the  doors  of  the  church  in  the  face  of  the 
priest  appointed  by  the  archbishop,  and  have  refused 
to  see  him.  The  Irish  have  their  churches  and  priests. 
The  Italians  have  theirs.  So  have  the  French  and 
other  nations.  These  different  communities  are  hot 
partisans.  The  Jews  and  Samaritans  did  not  maintain 
a  fiercer  enmity. 

ARCHBISHOP   MCCLOSKEY. 

Archbishop  McCloskey  succeeded  Archbishop  Hughes, 
on  the  death  of  that  prelate.  He  is  in  every  respect 
unlike  his  predecessor;  is  a  man  of  medium  size,  a  round, 
jovial,  contented  face,  carrot-colored  hair,  mild  expres- 
sion, quiet  and  unostentatious  in  his  manner,  seldom 
appearing  before  the  public  by  speech  or  pen  except 
in  connection  with  some  occasion  in  which  his  church 
is  represented.  Bishop  Hughes  was  always  before  the 
public.  He  was  aggressive  in  his  movements,  always 


IN  NEW  YORK.  693 

in  a  controversy  with  some  one ;  attacking  Congress, 
the  legislature,  the  courts,  the  common  school  sys- 
tem, or  some  other  prominent  matter.  Archbishop 
McCloskey  conducts  the  affairs  of  his  diocese  with  the 
secrecy  attributed  to  the  Jesuits.  But  no  one  doubts 
that  his  administration  of  affairs  is  much  more  success- 
ful, and  that  the  diocese  was  never  in  as  prosperous  a 
condition  as  now.  That  the  Catholics  do  not  manipu- 
late a  few  things  —  the  Croton  Board,  the  Police 
Department,  the  Fire  Department,  the  Central  Park 
—  is  owing  entirely  to  the  interference  of  the  state. 
Strenuous  efforts  are  being  made  to  restore  these 
departments  to  the  city  government,  that  they  may 
be  tributary  to  Catholicism  in  the  city  and  country. 


694        SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 


XCI. 

GIFT  SWINDLES  AND  LOTTERY 
ENTERPRISES. 

THEIR   EXTENT.  —  PLAN   OF   OPERATION. THE   TICKET    SWINDLE. — MODES   OF 

OPERATING.  —  PRIZE     TICKET.   —  CIRCULAR.    —  MEDICAL     SWINDLE.  —  THE 

LETTERS.  WHY    DON'T    THE    POLICE    BREAK    UP    THIS    SWINDLING  ?  —  THE 

PARTIES    WHO   CARRY   ON   THE   SWINDLE.  —  DOLLAR   STORES. 

THEIR   EXTENT. 

THERE  are  over  two  thousand  of  these  swindling 
establishments  in  New  York.  There  are  about  thirty 
heavy  concerns,  which  do  the  principal  business.  These 
change  their  location  and  their  names  often.  By  a 
flourishing  concern,  the  number  of  letters  received 
daily  is  from  two  hundred  to  five  hundred.  These 
letters  come  mainly  from  the  country,  —  many  from 
the  West,  more  from  the  South.  The  swindles  are 
based  upon  some  pretended  benevolent  scheme,  such 
as  the  "Asylum  for  Sick  and  Wounded  Soldiers;"  or, 
"  Union  Jewellers'  Society ; "  or,  "  Sailors'  and  Soldiers' 
Home  ; "  or,  « Orphans'  Institute."  Sometimes  these 
concerns  run  a  newspaper,  and  offer  a  gift  to  every 
subscriber.  The  "  Dollar  Stores,"  with  a  prize  to  every 
purchaser,  belong  to  the  same  class  of  swindles.  Thou- 


IN  NEW   YORK.  695 

sands  of  letters  are  received  at  the  headquarters  of  the 
police  from  victims  asking  redress ;  sending  for  the 
prizes ;  exposing  imposition ;  pointing  out  the  locality 
where  the  swindlers  do  their  business,  and  asking  the 
police  to  break  up  the  den  of  sharpers.  Why  the 
police  do  not  do  it,  and  put  an  end  to  this  robbery, 
will  be  seen  in  another  place.  Three  out  of  the  five 
letters  received  at  the  police  headquarters  are  from 
victims  who  have  been  swindled  out  of  amounts  vary- 
ing from  ten  to  two  hundred  dollars^ 

It  is  estimated  that  the  season,  and  it  is  a  short  one 
usually,  during  which  one  of  these  gift  enterprises 
runs,  from  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  half  a  mil- 
lion of  money  is  received.  There  is  scarcely  a  city  or 
town  in  the  Union  to  which  circulars  are  not  sent,  and 
from  which  victims  are  not  secured. 

PLAN    OF    OPERATION. 

From  some  den  in  the  city,  or  from  some  store  fitted 
up  for  the  occasion,  a  scheme  is  got  up  in  aid  of  the 
"  Orphans'  Institute."  By  the  aid  of  directories,  post- 
office  lists,  and  other  means,  the  names  of  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  persons  are  obtained  from  all  parts  of  the 
country.  Circulars  are  sent  to  each  of  these  persons, 
containing  a  list  of  prizes  to  be  drawn,  the  numbers, 
and  all  the  paraphernalia  of  a  lottery.  Each  party  is 
made  an  agent.  Each  party  is  guaranteed  a  prize. 
Each  is  to  sell  tickets.  Each  is  to  keep  quiet,  as 
a  knowledge  of  the  promised  prize  to  one  party 
would  create  dissatisfaction  among  the  rest.  But  in 
every  case  ten  dollars  must  be  mailed  before  the 
prize  can  be  sent  on.  The  party  is  enjoined  to 


696  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

state  whether  the  prize  shall  be  sent  on  in  a  draft  or 
in  "  greenbacks."  Ten  or  fifteen  days,  at  the  most,  are 
allowed,  to  respond.  As  the  prize  is  supposed  to  be 
worth  from  one  hundred  to  five  hundred  dollars,  the 
party  catches  at  the  bait,  sends  on  the  ten  dollars,  and 
of  course  that  is  the  last  of  it.  As  a  specimen  of  these 
circulars,  the  minute  instructions  in  regard  to  the 
prizes,  sending  the  money,  &c.,  to  prevent  the  party 
from  coming  or  sending,  the  following  circular,  received 
by  the  authorities  from  a  victim,  will  be  interesting :  — 
*  *  *  .  *  *  * 

Your  present  will  be  sent  promptly  in  ten  days  after  the  reception  of  the 
percentage.  Don't  send  for  us  to  ship  your  present  and  you  pay  on  delivery. 
We  cannot  do  it,  as  we  should  have  to  employ  more  help  than  you  would 
want  to  pay,  and  thus  lessen  the  profits  to  the  ticket  holders.  Also  avoid 
sending  to  your  friends  to*  call  and  get  your  presents ;  it  not  only  gives  them 
trouble,  but  it  is  a  great  annoyance  ;  they  are  always  sure  to  call  when  we  have 
the  most  business  on  hand,  and  they  insist  upon  being  waited  on  first,  &c.,  &c. 
To  accommodate  them  we  have  to  run  through  the  immense  amount  of  names, 
and  many  times  we  have  two  of  the  same  name ;  then  we  have  to  refer  to  our 
register  containing  the  name,  town,  and  state,  to  get  the  correct  one.  Then, 
again,  if  you  send  by  them,  or  should  come  yourself,  you  incur  expense,  for 
you  know  what  you  have  drawn  by  your  notice,  and  you  see  by  a  vote  of 
your  committee  you  cannot  collect  at  sight.  No  article  is  delivered  under 
ten  days'  notice,  so  you  or  your  friends  would  have  to  wait  ten  days  before 
being  able  to  obtain  what  is  against  your  name.  We  have  made  this  rule  and 
must  adhere  to  it,  for  those  that  send  us  their  percentage  we  feel  in  duty 
bound  to  wait  on  FIRST  ;  therefore  we  ask,  as  a  great  personal  favor,  that  upon 
the  receipt  of  your  notification,  if  there  is  a  percentage  of  a  few  dollars  to  be 
paid,  send  it  by  mail,  then  you  will  not  only  have  done  us  a  great  favor  and 
saved  us  much  unnecessary  trouble,  but  you  will,  at  the  same  time,  have  kept 
the  matter  in  a  straight,  business-like  manner,  so  that  it  will  avoid  all  mis- 
takes by  our  employees,  and  you  will  be  sure  to  get  your  present  at  the  time 
specified. 

Those  that  will  be  notified  that  they  have  drawn  presents  valued  at  $10, 
upwards  to  $25,  and  there  are  many,  they  have  no  percentage.  We  have 
passed  a  vote  not  to  deliver  any  article  from  the  office,  but  must  in  all  cases 
be  sent  by  mail  or  express  at  their  expense,  from  the  fact  that  we  should  be 
BO  overrun  by  those  living  near  that  we  should  have  to  neglect  our  friends  at 
a  distance,  so  remember  to  send  us  word  how  you  want  it  sent.  Write  name 
and  town  plainly,  so  any  one  that  reads  can  read  and  have  no  mistake. 


IN   NEW    YORK.  697 

Money  can  be  sent  at  our  risk  by  mail.  The  surest  way  is,  put  your 
money  in  a  letter  and  pay  twenty  cents  to  have  it  registered,  if  a  large  amount ; 
but  where  it  is  only  a  few  dollars,  put  it  in  a  letter  so  it  will  look  small,  and 
then  three  cents  will  answer.  We  seldom  miss  letters ;  and  when  a  bill  of  a 
large  denomination  is  placed  in  a  letter  it  does  not  show  that  it  contains  any- 
thing, and  if  it  looks  so  it  is  sure  to  arrive  safe,  and  thus  you  would  save 
seventeen  cents ;  and  as  a  penny  saved  is  as  good  as  two  earned,  you  can  take 
your  choice. 

When  you  receive  your  present  be  kind  enough  to  inform  us  of  the  fact,  so 
we  cVin  file  away  as  delivered.  In  case  you  do  not  receive  it  at  the  expira- 
tion of  ten  days,  be  prompt  in  giving  us  word,  so  we  can  look  it  up.  On  any 
business  enclose  stamp  for  return  answer. 

The  books  will  be  closed  after  fifteen  days  from  the  date  of  your  notifica- 
tion, as  it  must  be  closed  as  soon  as  possible  in  order  to  relieve  the  committee, 
and  as  it  will  give  all  ample  time  to  remit  or  send  their  order  how  the  present 
must  be  sent. 

We  think  we  have  given  you  all  the  information  required,  thus  saving  you 
the  trouble  of  writing  for  information.  . 

All  letters  should  be  addressed,  per  order  of  the  managers,  to 

READ  &  Co.,  Bankers,  No.  6  Clinton  Hall,  Astor  Place, 

Successors  to  GEO.  A.  COOKE  &  Co.  New  York  City. 

THE   TICKET    SWINDLE. 

Not  one  in  fifty  who  receive  tickets  ever  buys  them. 
Almost  all  the  victims  are  partners  to  the  fraud.  They 
receive  notice  from  the  managers  in  New  York  that  the 
ticket  purchased  by  them  has  drawn  the  prize.  Any 
number  is  put  in  that  the  managers  please.  The  prize 
is  a  gold  watch,  worth  two  hundred  dollars,  or  a  dia- 
mond, or  some  other  thing  worth  that  amount.  Per- 
haps from  ten  thousand  to  fifty  thousand  persons  receive 
the  same  notice.  The  parties  have  bought  no  such 
ticket.  They  hold  no  such  ticket.  They  think  the 
letter  directed  to  them  is  a  mistake  —  intended  for 
somebody  else.  They  catch  at  the  bait.  For  ten  dol- 
lars they  can  get  two  hundred.  The  man  has  only  ten 
days  in  which  to  make  the  return.  He  sends  his  money, 
gets  swindled  in  common  with  ten  thousand  others,  and 


698  SUNSHINE  AND    SHADOW 

then  lodges  his  complaint  with  the  New  York  police. 
The  managers  understand  this  arrangement  very  well. 
They  know  the  victim  will  not  dare  prosecute,  for  he 
is  a  party  to  the  swindle.  The  establishment  pockets 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars  for  three  months'  exper- 
iment, removes  to  another  part  of  the  city,  takes  a  new 
name,  and  commences  the  same  swindle  over  again. 
Here  is  one  of  the  tickets  with  which  a  St.  Louis  man 
was  swindled  out  of  his  five  per  cent.  He  sent  the 
card  to  the  New  York  police. 

JM.Il.    '  ^ 

ST.  Louis,  Mo. 

DEAR  SIR  :  You  are  hereby  notified  that  ticket  No.  137  has  drawn  gold 
watch  valued  at  $200.  Five  per  cent,  on  the  valuation  is  $  10.  The  per- 
centage must  be  paid  or  forwarded  within  twelve  days  from  the  date  of  this 
notice. 

Those  receiving  prizes  in  the  preliminary  drawing  receive  them  with  this 
understanding,  that  they  will  either  buy  tickets  in  our  grand  distribution 
that  takes  place  in  November,  or  use  their  influence  in  every  way  possible  to 
sell  tickets.  Any  parties  receiving  this  notice,  who  are  not  willing  to  assist 
us  in  our  grand  enterprise,  will  please  return  the  ticket  and  notice  as  soon  as 
received.  All  communications  and  money  must  be  sent  to 

HALLETT,  MOORE  &  Co.,  Bankers  and  Financial  Managers, 

575  Broadway,  New  York. 
By  order  of  the 

NEW  YORK  JEWELLERS'  COOPERATIVE  UNION. 

N.  B.  No  prizes  will  be  shipped  until  the  percentage  is  received.  We  will 
be  ready  in  fifteen  days  to  fill  orders  for  tickets  in  the  grand  distribution  of 
five  million  dollars'  worth  of  goods,  the  drawing  of  which  is  to  take  place  in 
the  building  of  the  New  York  Jewellers'  Cooperative  Union,  November 
16,  1868. 

By  order  of  the  BOARD  OF  DIRECTORS. 

MODES    OF    OPERATING. 

The  great  concerts  promised,  the  public  drawings 
and  distribution  of  prizes,  never  come  off.  Names  are 
used  without  the  knowledge  or  consent  of  the  impor- 
tant gentlemen  who  are  made  parties  to  the  fraud. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  699 

Soldiers  are  enlisted  in  the  work  of  selling  tickets,  and 
are  guaranteed  invariably  a  personal  prize  from  fifteen 
to  five  hundred  dollars.  Soldiers  who  have  been  in  the 
field  are  especially  guaranteed. 

PRIZE   TICKET. 

Ticket  in  the  Preliminary  Drawing  of  the  New  York  Jewellers'  Cooperative 

Union. 

[No.  137.] 

The  person  receiving  the  prize  drawn  by  this  ticket  receives  it  with  the 
understanding  that  he  will  use  his  influence  and  do  all  in  his  power  to  for- 
ward the  sale  of  tickets  in  our  grand  drawing,  to  take  place  the  16th  day  of 
November  next.  All  money  and  orders  for  tickets  in  the  November  drawing 
should  be  sent  to 

HALLETT,  MOORE  &  Co.,  Bankers, 

575  Broadway,  New  York. 

The  vanity  of  persons  is  appealed  to.  Out  of  the 
thousands  addressed,  each  one  supposes  himself  the 
privileged  and  favored  party.  Each  one  goes  to  work 
to  sell  tickets.  Thousands  of  letters  come  in  weekly  to 
the  New  York  house,  each  containing  sums  varying  from 
ten  to  twenty,  fifty,  and  one  hundred  dollars.  The 
circular  below  was  received  by  a  soldier  in  aid  of  the 
"  Sailors'  and  Soldiers'  Refuge."  He  sent  on  one  hun- 
dred dollars  for  tickets  sold,  and  ten  dollars  to  pay  the 
percentage  on  his  own  prize — which  of  course  he  never 
received.  Long  before  he  could  reach  New  York  the 
concern  had  disappeared. 

CIRCULAR. 

GENERAL  AGENCY  FOB  THE  UNITED  STATES,  ) 
NEW  YORK.  > 

DEAR  SIR  :  As  we  are  determined  to  send  a  good  prize  in  your  neighbor- 
hood, and  with  this  resolution  we  have  been  looking  around  for  an  opening  in 
which,  by  presenting  some  discreet  reliable  person  with  a  prize  of  a  few 


700  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


hundred  dollars,  it  would  have  the  desired  effect  to  increase  the  number  of 
our  customers.  We  accidentally  met  with  your  address,  and  the  idea  oc- 
curred to  us  at  once  that  you  were  just  the  person  to  aid  us  in  our  enterprise. 
We  therefore  make  to  you  a  proposition  that  must  strike  you  as  being  no  less 
novel  than  it  is  liberal,  and  that  you  may  not  suppose  that  there  is  any  decep- 
tion in  it  we  inform  you  that  the  prize  money  does  not  come  out  of  our 
pocket,  but  out  of  the  pocket  of  the  lottery  managers,  and  we  shall  not  lose 
by  sending  a  few  hundred  dollars  in  prize  money,  but  shall  gain  by  it  in  the 
increased  amount  of  business  we  shall  expect  from  your  neighborhood  when 
you  show  the  "  greenbacks,"  and  make  it  generally  known  that  they  are  the 
proceeds  of  a  prize  drawn  at  our  office.  We  make  this  offer  to  you  in  strict 
confidence  —  the  proposal  is  plain.  We  are  to  send  a  certificate  for  a  chance 
to  draw  a  prize  of  a  few  hundred  dollars.  You  are  to  show  the  money.  The 
result  will  be  that  hundreds  of  dollars  will  be  sent  to  us  for  tickets.  You  may 
be  the  gainer  of  a  few  hundred  dollars.  We  shall  be  gainers  by  our  sales, 
and  the  parties  who  send  for  tickets  may  be  gainers  by  drawing  prizes. 
Every  one  that  sends  will  of  course  expect  to  draw  a  prize,  not  knowing  the 
offer  we  made  privately  to  you,  which  is  as  follows  :  Send  us  $10  to  pay  the 
managers,  and  we  will  send  to  you,  securely  sealed,  a  certificate  of  a  package 
of  tickets  in  the  enclosed  scheme ;  and  to  set  at  rest  any  doubt  you  may  have 
of  our  sincerity,  we  hereby  bind  ourselves  to  send  you  a  second  certificate  in 
any  of  our  brilliant  extra  lotteries,  for  nothing,  if  the  first  we  send  you  does 
not  draw  you,  clear  of  all  expenses,  twelve  hundred  dollars ;  and  mark  this  fact, 
to  send  you  twelve  hundred  dollars  out  of  the  managers'  pocket  will  cost  us 
nothing,  but  to  send  you  an  extra  certificate  will  take  money  out  of  our 
pocket.  We  mention  this  merely  to  show  you  that  it  is  our  interest  to  send 
you  a  prize.  We  hand  you  an  envelope  with  our  address.  Enclose  to  us 
$10,  and  state  in  your  letter  whether  we  shall  send  you  a  draft  on  your 
nearest  bank,  or  shall  we  send  you  the  amount  in  "greenbacks"  by  mail, 
which  last  perhaps  will  suit  you  better.  Please  let  us  have  your  order  by 
return  mail,  as  we  shall  have  to  order  the  certificate  from  the  managers  for 
you,  and  believe  us, 

Yours,  respectfully, 

C.  A.  TAYLOR  &  Co. 

P.  S.    In  remitting,  please  send  post  office  order  or  by  express,  or  register 
the  letter,  to  insure  safe  delivery  to  us. 

MEDICAL   SWINDLE. 

Another  favorite  mode  of  swindling  is  carried  on  by 
men  whose  "  sands  of  life  have  almost  run  out."  The 
party  represents  himself  as  a  retired  clergyman ;  one 
who  had  suffered  long  from  the  asthma,  or  from  a  bron- 


IN  NEW  YORK.  701 

chial  affection,  or  one  nearly  dead  with  the  dyspep- 
sia, or  wasting  away  with  consumption.  Through  a 
recipe  from  an  old  doctor,  or  an  old  nurse,  or  an  In- 
dian, the  party  obtained  relief.  Out  of  gratitude  for 
the  recovery,  the  healed  clergyman  or  individual  gives 
notice  that  he  will  send  the  recipe  "  without  charge  "  to 
any  sufferer  who  may  desire  it.  Circulars  by  the  thou- 
sand are  sent  to  the  address  of  persons  in  all  parts  of 
the  country.  Each  person  is  required  to  put  a  postage 
stamp  in  his  letter,  for  the  transmission  of  the  recipe. 
Thousands  of  letters  come  back  in  response.  The 
recipe  is  sent,  attached  to  which  is  the  notice  that  great 
care  must  be  taken  in  securing  the  right  kind  of  med- 
icine. Not  one  apothecary  in  a  hundred  in  the  coun- 
try has  the  medicine  named.  The  benevolent  holder 
of  the  recipe  adds  to  other  things,  that  should  the 
party  not  be  able  to  get  the  medicine,  if  he  will  en- 
close three  or  five  dollars,  as  the  case  may  be,  the  New 
York  party  will  make  the  purchase  and  send  it  on  by 
express.  Dreaming  of  no  fraud,  the  money  is  sent  as 
directed.  If  the  medicine  is  sent  on  at  all,  it  costs 
about  fifty  cents  to  the  buyer,  and  a  handsome  busi- 
ness is  done.  If  the  swindle  takes,  the  party  will 
pocket  from  twenty  thousand  to  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars, break  up  the  concern,  and  be  out  of  the  way  be- 
fore the  victim  can  visit  New  York. 

THE  LETTERS. 

The  thirty  large  gift  establishments  receive  about 
five  hundred  letters  a  day.  Full  three  fifths  of  these 
letters  contain  money.  Some  of  the  letters  detained 
by  the  authorities  were  found  to  contain  sums  as  high 


702  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

•f 

as  three  hundred  dollars.  Directed  to  different  parties, 
they  are  taken  out  by  the  same  persons.  The  med- 
icine swindle,  the  dollar  fraud,  advertising  for  partners, 
dollar  stores,  and  gift  enterprises  are  run  by  the  same 
parties.  This  advertising  for  partners  is  worthy  of 
especial  notice.  A  man  with  a  capital  of  from  one  hun- 
dred to  five  hundred  dollars  is  wanted.  Great  induce- 
ments are  held  out  to  him.  He  can  make  one  hundred 
dollars  a  day  and  run  no  risk.  The  victim  appears. 
He  has  a  little  money,  or  his  wife  has  some,  or  he  has 
a  little  place  he  can  mortgage.  The  gift  swindle  is 
open  to  him.  The  basket  of  letters  is  opened  in  his 
presence.  He  is  offered  a  share  in  the  dazzling  scheme. 
He  pays  his  money,  helps  open  the  letters  for  a  day  or 
two,  and  then  the  scheme  dissolves  in  the  night.  Al- 
most all  these  large  swindles  have  smaller  ones  that  go 
along  with  them. 

WHY   DO    NOT    THE    POLICE   BREAK   IIP   THIS    SWINDLING? 

The  names  of  the  parties  who  are  carrying  on  these 
gigantic  swindles  are  well  known  to  our  police.  The 
managers  have  been  arrested  a  dozen  times.  Broken 
up  in  one  place,  under  a  new  name  they  open  again. 
Thousands  of  letters  are  sent  to  the  police  headquar- 
ters from  victims  asking  for  redress.  But  not  one  of 
these  letters  is  a  complaint.  Without  a  complaint  the 
police  are  powerless.  The  victims  belong  to  the  coun- 
try. Most  of  them  have  a  respectable  standing.  They 
knew  the  thing  was  illegal  when  it  was  presented  to 
them.  It  was  a  lottery,  and  nothing  more.  When 
they  sent  their  ten  dollars  to  secure  the  prize,  they 
knew  it  was  a  cheat  on  their  part,  for  they  had  bought 


IN  NEW  YORK.  703 

no  ticket,  and  if  there  was  a  prize  they  were  not  enti- 
tled to  it.  They  dare  not  commence  a  suit  against 
these  parties,  and  come  to  New  York  and  prosecute 
it.  The  swindlers  understand  this  perfectly  well,  and 
defy  the  authorities.  If  gentlemen  from  the  rural  dis- 
tricts love  to  be  swindled,  and  will  be  parties  to  the 
cheat,  refuse  to  make  a  complaint,  or  back  up  the  com- 
plaint in  the  courts,  they  must  take  the  consequences. 

THE  PARTIES  WHO  CARRY  ON  THE  SWINDLE. 

In  almost  every  case  gift  enterprises  are  carried  on 
under  an  assumed  name,  and  when  arrested,  the  parties 
prove  that  they  are  not  the  men  who  carry  on  the  busi- 
ness. When  goods  are  seized,  an  owner  appears  not 
before  named  to  replevin  the  stock.  A.  A.  Kelly  seems 
to  have  been  the  originator  of  this  method  of  swindling. 
He  began  in  Chicago  writh  the  Skating  Rink.  He  then 
came  to  New  York  and  began  the  gift  enterprise  and 
the  dollar  lottery  scheme.  He  got  up  a  Mock  Turtle 
Oil  Stock  Company.  He  swindled  a  man  in  Erie  county, 
who  had  him  indicted.  He  was  arrested  by  the  'police 
on  a  bench  warrant,  sent  to  Erie  county  to  be  tried,  and 
is  now  serving  the  state  in  prison.  Reade  &  Co.,  Clin- 
ton Hall,  now  doing  the  largest  gift  lottery  business  in 
the  city,  cannot  be  found,  though  the  police  have  ar- 
rested the  subordinates  a  dozen  times. 

One  of  the  great  firms  in  New  York  was  run  by 
Clarke,  Webster,  &  Co.  The  police  came  down  on  the 
establishment  and  took  away  six  truck-loads  of  books, 
circulars,  and  goods.  They  found  directories  for  every 
town  and  city  in  the  country.  What  were  not  printed 
were  written.  No  such  individuals  as  Clarke,  Webster, 


704  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

&  Co.  existed.  A  man  known  as  William  M.  Elias  ap- 
peared as  the  owner  of  the  goods,  and  demanded  them 
on  a  writ  of  replevin.  The  police  refused  to  give  them 
up,  and  gave  bonds.  The  goods  still  remain  at  the 
headquarters. 

Many  victims  who  receive  notice  that  their  ticket, 
which  they  never  bought,  has  drawn  a  prize,  and  who 
are  requested  to  send  on  the  ten  dollars  to  pay  ex- 
penses and  percentage,  try  to  do  a  sharp  thing.  They 
send  the  ten  dollars  on  to  General  Kennedy,  the  Su- 
perintendent of  the  Police,  with  the  request  that  he 
will  pay  it  and  take  the  present  if  it  is  all  right.  Such 
parties  generally  get  a  sharp  answer  from  the  official, 
informing  them  that  gambling  is  unlawful ;  that  the 
business  they  are  engaged  in  is  gambling ;  that  the 
whole  concern  is  a  swindle,  and  that  they  had  better 
put  their  money  in  their  pockets  and  mind  their 
business. 

DOLLAR    STORES. 

These  establishments  are  a  part  of  the  gift  swindle, 
and  are  run  by  the  same  men  under  a  different  name. 
Their  establishment  is  well  calculated  to  attract  and  de- 
ceive. They  offer  you  gold  watches  apparently  worth 
three  hundred  dollars,  which  an  unpractised  eye  could 
not  detect  from  a  valuable  timepiece,  for  the  sum  of 
ten  dollars.  Gold  brooches,  diamond  pins,  silver  pitch- 
ers, silver  tea-sets,  valued  at  from  ten  to  one  hundred 
dollars  apparently,  and  all  for  the  low  sum  of  from  one 
to  ten  dollars.  These  articles  are  all  manufactured  for 
the  purpose,  and  on  each  of  them  the  proprietor  makes 
a  profit.  Hundreds  of  these  establishments  are  broken 


IN.  NEW  YORK.  "705 

up  every  year.  But  as  long  as  parties  are  willing  to 
pay  their  money  for  a  swindle,  —  as  long  as  they  will 
submit  to  be  duped,  and  enrich  parties  who  cheat  them, 
persons  will  be  found  willing  to  enrich  themselves  with 
gift  swindles  and  gambling  operations. 
45 


706  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 


XCII. 

SUNSHINE    AND    SHADOW. 

WHOEVER  writes  of  New  York  truly,  will  do  so  in 
lines  of  light  and  gloom.  Though  this  city  is  not  so 
large  as  London,  life  is  here  more  intense  ;  crime  is 
more  vivid  and  daring;  the  votaries  of  fashion  and 
pleasure  are  more  passionate  and  open.  The  joy  and 
good  in  New  York  abound  over  sorrow  and  evil.  The 
religious  people  are  decidedly  religious.  The  liberal 
are  decidedly  liberal.  Nor  are  donations  confined  to 
the  city  or  state.  The  beneficence  of  New  York 
touches  both  oceans,  and  makes  glad  the  heart  of 
men  in  all  parts  of  the  world.  The  calls  on  the  wealthy 
are  ceaseless.  Yet  the  liberal  never  tire,  and  their 
gifts  are  in  many  instances  graded  by  their  own  suc- 
cess. Immense  donations  are  annually  made,  running 
up  from  ten  thousand  dollars  to  half  a  million.  To 
agree  to  give  ten  thousand  dollars  a  year  for  ten  years 
is  no  uncommon  arrangement.  To  found  a  college, 
endow  a  professorship,  to  donate  a  library,  to  build  a 
church  and  complete  it  in  all  its  appointments  in  locali- 
ties far  away,  to  build  a  church  in  memoriam,  costing 
three  hundred  thousand  dollars,  to  give  half  a  million 
for  an  educational  institution,  is  the  pastime  of  our 
wealthy  citizens. 


IN  NEW   YORK.  707 


In  no  other  city  is  mission  work,  Sunday-school 
the  visiting  of  prisons,  hospitals,  penitentiaries,  per- 
formed by  the  wealthy  as  it  is  in  New  York.  Merchant 
princes,  millionnaires,  lawyers  of  national  repute,  doc- 
tors of  continental  fame,  editors  and  conductors  of  our 
most  celebrated  papers,  successful  book  men,  and 
wealthy  mechanics,  who  are  religious,  are  found  in  our 
Sunday  schools.  There  are  more  religious  men  of  this 
class  than  can  be  found  in  any  other  city.  The  great 
merchant  who  rivals  Stewart  in  the  retail  business, 
who  stands  second  to  him  in  the  wholesale,  and  who 
employs  nearly  five  hundred  men  in  his  massive  busi- 
ness, can  be  seen  on  Sunday  in  the  infant  department 
of  the  Sunday  school,  with  a  child  or  two  in  his  lap, 
singing  about  the 

"  Sweet  story  of  old, 
When  Jesus  was  here  among  men." 

A  worse  population  than  can  be  found  in  New  York 
does  not  inhabit  the  globe.  The  base  men  of  every 
nation,  and  the  crimes,  customs,  and  idolatries  of  every 
quarter  of  the  world,  are  here.  Portions  of  the  city 
are  abandoned  to  the  lowest  order  of  the  Jews.  The 
Italians  herd  together  near  Five  Points,  in  a  locality 
not  safe  to  enter  at  night,  unless  guarded  by  the 
police.  They  are  dangerous,  turbulent,  stealthy,  and 
defiant.  Their  very  tread  is  suggestive  of  the  stiletto. 
There  is  no  locality  viler,  more  repulsive,  or  more 
wicked  than  that  occupied  by  the  low  French.  The 
Chinese  herd  together,  without  the  decency  of  cattle. 
They  smoke  their  opium,  burn  incense,  and  worship 
idols,  as  in  the  cities  of  the  "  Celestial  Empire." 

The  organ-grinders  have  their  locality.     The  organs 


708  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

are  usually  owned  by  persons  who  have  capital.  The 
man,  woman,  child,  and  monkey  that  attend  the 
organ  are  hired  by  the  day.  They  herd  at  night  in  a 
vile  locality.  Men  and  women,  black  and  white,  drunk 
and  sober,  sleep  in  a  common  room,  in  bunks  or  on 
the  unwholesome  floor.  Men  and  women  who  gather 
ashes  and  garbage  have  a  common  rendezvous,  where 
the  howling  of  the  dogs  and  the  fighting  of  the  wromen 
and  men  make  night  hideous.  Horses,  donkeys,  cattle, 
goats,  and  pigs  are  kept  in  the  cellar  with  geese  and 
chickens,  or  quite  frequently  in  a  small  back  yard,  the 
animals  being  driven  through  the  front  entry  to  their 
reeking  stables.  A  portion  of  New  York  is  Paradise : 
a  large  part  is  Pandemonium. 

In  New  York,  fortunes  are  suddenly  made  and  sud- 
denly lost.  I  can  count  over  a  dozen  merchants  who, 
at  the  time  I  began  to  write  this  book,  a  few  months 
ago,  were  estimated  to  be  worth  not  less  than  two 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  some  of  them  half  a 
million,  who  are  now  utterly  penniless.  At  the  open- 
ing of  this  year  (1868)  a  merchant,  well  known  in  thia 
city,  had  a  surplus  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars  in  cash.  He  died  suddenly  in  July.  He  made 
his  will  three  months  before  his  death,  and  appointed 
his  executors.  By  that  will  he  divided  two  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars.  His  executors  contributed 
one  thousand  dollars  to  save  a  portion  of  the  furniture 
to  the  widow,  and  that  was  all  that  was  left  her  out  of 
that  great  estate.  He  did  what  thousands  have  done 
before  him,  what  thousands  are  doing  now,  and  will  do 
to-morrow.  He  had  money  enough,  but  he  wanted  a 
little  more.  He  was  induced  to  go  into  a  nice  little 


IN  NEW  YORK.  709 

speculation  on  Wall  Street.  He  put  in  fifty  thousand 
dollars.  To  save  it  he  put  in  fifty  thousand  dollars 
more.  The  old  story  was  repeated,  with  the  same 
results. 

Great  cities  must  ever  be  centres  of  light  and  dark- 
ness ;  the  repositories  of  piety  and  wickedness ;  the 
home  of  the  best  and  the  worst  of  our  race ;  holding 
within  themselves  the  highest  talent  for  good  and  evil, 
with  vast  enginery  for  elevation  and  degradation ; 
from  which  come  untold  sums  for  religion  and  benefi- 
cence, and  for  the  ruin  and  destruction  of  the  race. 
The  philanthropist  and  reformer  find  in  New  York 
ample  scope  for  all  their  powers.  The  abandoned  and 
the  dissolute  are  not  always  the  most  hardened.  The 
sigh  of  penitence,  the  sob  of  despair,  and  the  prayer  for 
deliverance  from  a  vicious  life,  are  heard  at  night  in 
the  damp,  gloomy  cells  of  our  prisons,  but  are  often 
unheeded.  There  are  to-day  five  hundred  girls  on  the 
pave  of  New  York  who  pray  God  nightly  for  deliver- 
ance, which  does  not  come.  Many  of  them  are  very 
young.  They  have  left  healthy  country  homes.  Mock 
marriages  and  promises  of  marriage  have  led  them 
to  forsake  the  happy  hearthstone  where  they  knew 
neither  shame,  want,  nor  sorrow.  The  vicious  arms  of 
New  York  stretch  themselves  hundreds  of  miles  away 
into  the  country.  In  picnics,  large  gatherings,  private 
academies,  and  on  commencement  occasions,  victims 
are  secured.  Once  in  New  York,  the  horror  and  re- 
morse, the  sickness  and  suffering  of  the  new  life,  break 
on  the  victim.  Tears  of  blood  are  shed  without  avail. 
The  motto  over  bad  New  York  is  the  startling  words, 
"  Whoso  entereth  here  leaves  hope  behind." 


710  SUNSHINE  AND   SHADOW 

One  of  our  leading  music  teachers,  who  has  been 
long  and  successfully  connected  with  the  mission  work 
at  Five  Points,  had  occasion,  with  some  friends  and 
an  officer,  not  long  since,  to  visit  a  house  filled  with 
young  women.  He  was  asked  to  play.  He  com- 
menced with  some  operatic  music.  Then  he  played 
some  national  songs.  He  is  a  magnificent  singer  as 
well  as  player,  and  the  unusual  sound  of  such  music  in 
that  place  crowded  the  parlors.  He  gradually  intro- 
duced more  plaintive  music.  He  then  sang  a  hymn  or 
two.  Growing  bold,  and  yet  fearing  the  result,  he  be- 
gan, in  a  voice  full  of  feeling,  Toplady's  magnificent 
hymn,  — 

"  Kock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me." 

Nearly  every  eye  was  full  of  tears.  Sobs  accompanied 
the  music.  At  the  conclusion  quite  a  number  of  girls, 
who  wept  as  if  their  hearts  would  break,  clung  to  the 
singer,  and  begged  of  him  to  take  them  from  that 
place.  They  would  work,  they  would  do  any  menial 
thing,  if  they  had  but  a  shelter  and  a  refuge.  That 
shelter  and  refuge  Christian  New  York  does  not  pro- 
vide, and  he  had  to  leave  these  suffering,  penitent, 
beseeching  girls  where  he  found  them. 

A  young  woman  was  arrested  for  keeping  a  dis- 
orderly house,  and  was  placed  in  prison.  One  day  the 
sheriff  called  on  a  well-known  clergyman,  celebrated  for 
his  philanthropic  labors,  and  said  to  him,  "There  is  a 
young  woman  in  prison ;  her  mother  is  dead,  and,  as 
she  has  no  home,  her  funeral  is  to  be  attended  from 
the  prison.  I  don't  know  of  anybody  who  will  attend 
the  funeral  unless  you  will  do  it."  The  minister  readily 
complied,  and  was  at  the  jail  at  the  appointed  hour. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  711 

The  young  woman  was  with  the  dead.  She  was  the 
only  mourner ;  and  the  sheriff's  family  were  present  at 
the  services.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  religious  exer- 
cises the  daughter  rose,  went  up  to  the  minister,  and 
eaid,  "Would  you  not  like  to  go  and  look  at  my 
mother?"  While  standing  at  the  head  of  the  coffin 
the  minister  felt  impressed  to  say  something.  He 
turned  to  her,  and  said,  "  Do  you  not  feel  that  this  is 
a  fit  time  to  make  new  resolutions,  and  in  the  presence 
of  the  dead  to  change  your  course  of  life?"  She 
paused  a  moment,  deliberately  took  off  her  gloves, 
placed  one  hand  on  the  brow  of  her  mother,  gave  the 
other  to  the  minister,  and  said,  "With  God's  help  I 
swear."  She  was  removed  to  her  cell.  Several  Chris- 
tian women  visited  her.  About  three  weeks  after  the 
funeral,  on  going  into  his  prayer-meeting  one  Friday 
night,  the  minister  saw  the  young  woman,  deeply 
veiled,  sitting  on  the  front  seat.  While  a  hymn  was 
being  sung  he  went  and  spoke  to  her.  She  told  him 
that  she  still  held  to  her  vow ;  that  she  had  been  re- 
leased from  jail  that  afternoon,  and  that  the  prayer- 
meeting  was  the  first  place  she  had  entered.  He 
asked  her  if  she  was  willing  to  make  a  statement  of 
her  feelings  to  the  church.  She  replied,  "  If  you 
think  it  is  fit  for  such  as  I  am  to  speak  in  this  place, 
I  am  willing."  In  a  modest  manner,  but  in  words  that 
thrilled,  she  told  the  story  of  her  sad  life.  "  When  your 
pastor,"  she  said,  "  uttered  those  words  at  the  coffin  of 
my  mother,  '  God  bless  you,  and"  give  you  strength 
to  keep  your  vow/  they  thrilled  my  deepest  soul.  In 
astonishment  I  cried  out,  <  What,  you  bless  me !  They 
are  the  first  kind  words  I  have  heard  for  years.'  They 


712       SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW. 

decided  my  fate."  She  was  removed  to  the  country, 
away  from  her  acquaintances  and  the  temptations  of 
the  city.  She  soon  after  united  with  the  church,  and 
is  an  earnest,  humble,  and  devoted  worker  in  the  paths 
of  religion  and  philanthropy.  So  it  must  ever  be  while 
New  York  maintains  her  position  as  the  Metropolis  of 
the  Nation:  that  within  her  borders  will  be  found 
SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW. 


IN  NEW  YORK.  713 

xcm 

[APPENDICES,  BY  "SCRIPTOR."] 

REV.    THOMAS   ARMITAGE,  D.  D. 

ONE  of  the  most  popular  and  impressive  public 
speakers  in  the  city  is  the  pastor  of  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Baptist  Church.  Dr.  Annitage  was  born  in  York- 
shire, England,  and  his  a'ge  is  about  fifty.  At  about 
fifteen  years  of  age  he  commenced  preaching  among 
the  Methodists,  and  a  few  years  after  he  came  to  this 
^country. 

About  twenty  years  ago  he  became  pastor  of  a  Baptist 
church,  then  located  in  Norfolk  Street.  The  transfer 
of  this  large  body  to  its  present  location,  was  an  un- 
dertaking that  required  of  him  great  ability,  and  influ- 
ence over  his  people. 

Dr.  Armitage's  eloquence  is  characterized  by  extra- 
ordinary combinations  of  ideas,  couched  in  elegant 
language.  His  utterance  is  impassioned;  his  man- 
ner peculiar  and  persevering.  He  heaps  idea  upon 
idea,  illustration  upon  illustration,  until  the  hearer  is 
bewildered.  Yet  he  is  a  plain,  practical  man  of 
business. 

Since  the  death  of  Dr.  C0ne,  he  has  been  the  perma- 
nent President  of  the.  American  Bible  Union,  the 
object  of  which  is  to  procure  and  circulate  the  most 
faithful  versions  of  the  sacred  scriptures,  in  all  languages, 


714  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

throughout  the  world.  This  body  is  constantly  grow- 
ing in  numbers  and  influence.  In  the  brief  period  of  its 
existence  it  has  circulated  considerably  over  half  a 
million  of  copies  of  the  scriptures ;  and  with  the 
aid  of  the  best  scholarship  of  the  age,  professes  to  have 
detected  and  corrected  more  than  10,000  errors  in  the 
common  English  testament.  This  has  often .  brought 
its  supporters  into  public  conflict  with  the  friends  of 
the  common  version,  and  caused  no  little  display  of 
controversial  ability  on  each  side. 

Dr.  Armitage,  of  course,  has  been  obliged  to  defend 
his  position  and  that  of  the  Bible  Union,  especially  in 
the  substitution  of  the  words  IMMERSE  and  IMMERSION  for 
baptize  and  baptism.  It  is  but  just  to  say,  that  he  has 
fairly  met  the  requisitions  of  such  occasions,  and^ 
proved  himself  as  sound  as  a  logician  as  he  is  eloquent 
as  a  speaker. 

Dr.  Armitage's  social  qualities  are  fully  equal  to  his 
pulpit  abilities.  He  is  the  life  of  company,  full  of 
humor  and  repartee,  with  a  lively  sense  of  the  ludi- 
crous and  an  almost  tragic  power  of  sarcasm.  These 
qualities  have  procured  for  him  a  large  circle  of  attach- 
ed friends,  not  at  all  confined  to  the  denomination 
with  which  he  is  ecclesiastically  connected. 


•IN  NEW  YORK.  715 

XCIV. 
THE  SEWING  MACHINE  INTEREST. 

NEW    YORK    THE    GREAT    CENTRE. — A    WORD    OF    TITSTORY. — THE    REPRESENT- 
ATIVE   COMPANY. — THE    WEED    SEWING    MACHINE. 

A  WORK  upon  current  life  in  New  York,  and  the 
vast  interests  which  centre  there  and  radiate  over  the 
whole  land,  would  be  signally  incomplete  if  neglecting 
to  notice  that  most  important  domestic  interest,  the 
Sewing  Machine,  which,  under  various  forms,  some 
good,  others  better,  has  become  almost  a  recognized 
"  household  god  "  throughout  the  country,  as  well  as  a 
practical  necessity  for  every  well-regulated  family — 
every  family  in  which  the  wife,  the  mother  or  the 
daughters  are  not  looked  upon  and  treated  as  merely 
slaves  or  drudges ;  in  which  woman  is  respected,  and 
her  burdens  sought  to  be  made  lighter. 

New  York  has  become  the  great  mart  of  Sewing 
Machines  for  this  country ;  and  the  warehouses  which 
serve  this  great  interest,  and  are  mostly  located  be- 
tween Canal  Street  and  Union  Square,  on  Broadway, 
are  among  the  imperial  edifices  which  adorn  that 
grand  avenue.  Already  the  Sewing  Machine  business* 
has  become  one  of  the  financial  as  well  as  domestic 
"  powers  that  be."  Although  young  it  is  old  enough 
to  have  a  history,  a  narrative  of  the  struggles  of  gen- 
ius in  giving  it  birth,  and  of  patience  and  perseverance 
in  urging  its  claims  upon  the  public  against  a  thous- 
and obstacles  ;  a  history,  too,  at  last,  of  mighty  tri- 
umphs and  crowns  of  literal  gold.  It  will  not  be  at- 


716  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW 

tempted  here  to  decide  upon  the  claims  of  rivals  for 
the  honor  of  having  invented  the  Sewing  Machine,  or 
any  parts  thereof.  But  be  the  honor  whose  it  may, 
it  is  conceded  by  all,  we  believe,  that  the  Sewing  Ma- 
chine had  its  origin  in  the  brains  of  those  who  toiled 
for  a  living,  and  grew  to  general  recognition  at  last, 
only  under  the  fostering  smiles  or  in  the  tears  of 
hoping,  struggling  humanity — a  peculiar  child  of  the 
people.  It  is  true  that  all  great  inventions  have  en- 
countered great  obstacles  to  their  introduction  to 
public  favor ;  but,  few,  if  any,  have  undergone  trials 
at  all  comparable  with  those  which  attended  the  in- 
troduction of  the  Sewing  Machine.  Various  were  the 
objections  urged  against  its  use,  the  only  sensible  one 
being  that  of  its  great  cost. 

But  other  forms  of  the  Sewing  Machine  than  the 
first,  were  soon  created ;  many  modifications  of  the 
old  form,  and  some  original.  The  public  wants  be- 
came numerous  as  the  Sewing  Machine  moved  on  in 
general  favor,  and  the  inventive  genius  of  the  whole 
country  was  taxed  to  meet  them.  Some  of  these  new 
inventions  had  but  a  transitory  life.  The  growth  of 
the  Sewing  Machine  proceeded  until  at  last  certain 
forms  of  it  have  become  staple,  and  are  respectively 
so  good  that  almost  every  lady  who  has  a  Machine 
and  unfortunately  knows  nothing  of  the  merits  of  any 
of  another  kind,  thinks  hers  is  the  best  in  the  world. 
But,  'nevertheless,  some  Machines  possess  important 
advantages  over  others. 

The  number  of  Machines,  we  ought  perhaps  to  note 
here,  now  annually  manufactured  in  the  United  States, 


IN  NEW  YORK.  717 

cannot  be  far  from  two  hundred  thousand.  In  an 
article  such  as  this  everything  like  prejudice  must  be 
carefully  avoided.  In  whatever  family  "SUNSHINE  AND 
SHADOW  "  is  found,  there  will  likely  be  a  more  or  less 
growing  demand  for  the  Sewing  Machine ;  for  where- 
ever  books  go  and  are  read,  there  will  refinement,  to 
some  degree,  follow.  Literature  begets  the  kindnesses 
of  social  life  which  move  the  rough  and  thoughtless 
husband  and  father  to  consider,  sympathize  with,  and 
seek  to  soften  the  troubles  and  trials  of  the  wife  and 
daughters.  Inasmuch,  then,  as  we  have  made  the 
subject  of  Sewing  Machines  one  of  special  study,  in 
which  we  have  informed  ourselves  of  the  claims,  and 
the  merits  and  demerits  of  the  principal  ones,  we  feel 
that  we  shall  render  ourselves  obnoxious  to  no  charge 
of  prejudice  in  stating  the  result  of  our  inquiry.  That 
there  are  several  different  and  good  Machines  in  the 
market  it  would  be  idle  to  question.  The  fame  of 
the  Singer  Machine,  that  of  Grover  and  Baker,  the 
Wheeler  and  Wilson,  and  also  the  Howe,  is  justly  great. 
But  it  would  be  strange  if  prolific  genius  did  not  in 
years  invent  machines  superior  to  these,  and  we  were 
not  astonished  to  find  that  the  instrument  made  by 
the  Weed  Sewing  Machine  Company,  though  com- 
paratively new,  is  already  occupying  much  of  the  field 
heretofore  held  by  the  older  machines,  and  has  become 
the  Representative  Machine  of  American  ingenuity 
and  enterprise,  adapted  to  supply  the  most  wants,  and 
destined  to  be  the  machine  par  excellence  of  the  future. 
The  large  Warehouse  of  the  Weed  Company  is  at 
613  Broadway,  where  throngs  of  people  from  country 


718  SUNSHINE  AND  SHADOW. 

and  city  can  constantly  be  met  during  business  hours. 
The  popularity  of  the  Weed  machine  is  perhaps  the 
best  evidence  of  its  superiority,  and  is  so  great  that 
the  Company  have  almost  wholly  abandoned,  we  are 
told,  advertising  its  merits  through  the  public  press. 
The  orders  en  this  Company  are  vastly  more  than  they 
can  fill,  notwithstanding  their  extended  manufacturing 
facilities.  ^Indeed,  so  widely  and  favorably  known  is 
the  Weed  Machine,  that  it  may  properly  be  said  to 
sell  itself.  When  a  company  gets  to  that  point  that 
it  needs  make  no  exertion  to  enlarge  the  popularity 
of  its  wares,  it  has  to  observe  but  one  rule,  namely,  to 
put  before  the  public  only  the  best  of  wares ;  and  to 
this  point  the  Weed  Company  seem  fully  alive.  The 
greatest  care  possible  is  taken  that  every  Machine 
sent  out  shall  be  just  what  it  claims  to  be.  This  hon- 
orable dealing  upon  the  part  of  the  Company,  reviving 
the  days,  deplorably  long  past  in  most  businesses,  when 
our  merchants  were  men  of  honor  as  well  as  of  enter- 
prise, has  already  had  its  effect  in  their  favor.  "  This 
Company  can  be  trusted  for  good  work,"  say  the  people, 
"We  will  try  their  Machines;"  and  trial  is  sure  to 
result  in  purchase.  Simplicity  is  a  great  desideratum 
in  a  Sewing  Machine,  so  say  our  female  friends,  espe- 
cially ;  and  this  the  Weed  Machine  seems  to  possess 
above  all  others.  Hence,  doubtless,  much  of  that  pop- 
ularity which  has  commanded  for  it  a  place  herein  as 
the  Representative  Sewing  Machine  of  America — an 
honor  so  emphatically  recognized  at  the  Paris  Exposi- 
tion of  1867. 


A    NEW 


DICTIONARY  OF  THE  BIBLE, 


COMPRISING   ITS 


ANTIQUITIES,  BIOGRAPHY,  GEOGRAPHY, 

AND 

NATURAL   HISTORY. 


EDITED  BY  WILLIAM  SMITH,  LL.D, 

CLASSICAL  EXAMINER  IN  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF   LONDON,  AND  EDITOR   OF  THE 

DICTIONARIES  OF  "  GREEK  AND  ROMAN  ANTIQUITIES,"  "BIOGRAPHY 

AND  MYTHOLOGY,"  AND  "  GEOGRAPHY." 

A  fev  years  since,  Dr.  William  Smith,  of  the  University  of  London,  and  the  most  eminent  Lex- 
icographer in  the  world,  associated  with  himself  over  seventy  distinguished  Divines  and  Authors 
of  both  Europe  and  this  country,  in  the  great  task  of  preparing  a  comprehensive  Dictionary  of 
the  Bible,  and  supplying  the  want  that  had  been  long  felt  by  the  religious  public.  The  result  of 
these  labors  his  at  last  appeared  in  three  large  and  very  costly  volumes,  and  is  a  wonderful  monu- 
ment of  learning.  An  abridgement  for  popular  use  made  by  Dr.  Smith  himself,  is  offered  in  this 
volume.  It  is  a  condensation  of  thousands  of  volumes  of  essays,  histories,  travels,  arid  commen- 
taries for  the  elucidation  and  illustration  of  the  Bible. 

The  present  work  contains  every  name  in  the  Bible  respecting  which  anything  can  be  said.  It 
embraces  the  results  of  Historic  Research,  Antiquarian  Investigation,  the  study  of  Languages  and 
Dialects,  and  the  discoveries  of  the  modern  travelers  and  explorers  in  the  Holy  Land — Robin- 
»o:i,  Bawlinsoii,  Ferguson,  Layard,  Offert  and  Stanley.  It  gives  a  more  complete  list  of  the  proper 
•names  in  the  Scripture  than  is  contained  even  in  Cruden's  great  Concordance 

Ths  Publishers  are  confident  that  in  this  work  they  offer  to  the  American  public  a  volume  that 
is  greatly  superior  for  the  use  of  Christian  people  generally,  to  any  of  the  kind  yet  issued.  It 
possesses  rainy  excellencies  (besides  being  cheaper  than  any  other  edition,  and  within  the  pecu- 
niarv  reach  of  all)  which  commend  it  to  the  patronage  of  the  American  public. 

First.     It  is  printed  in   type    of  a  heavy,  distinct,  and  very  legible  face. 

Second.  It  is  the  only  edition  by  an  Ainerican  publisher  of  the  Condensation  made  by  Dr. 
Smith's  own  hand. 

Third.  The  most  careful  endeavor  and  accurate  scholarship  have  been  enlisted  to  avoid  re- 
producing the  errors  which  crept  into  the  English  edition. 

Fourth,.  English  authorities  differ  widely  from  American  in  the  pronunciation  of  proper  names. 
In  this  edition  our  standard  lexicographers  have  been  foUowed  so  as  to  adapt  the  work  to  the 
American  people,  and  give  it  an  invaluable  merit — and  one  which  is  possessed  by  no  olhir  reprint. 
An  intelligent  reader  or  student  of  the  Bible  will  appreciate  this  excellence,  and  be  satisfied  only 
with  the  Dictionary  that  gives  him  the  Scriptural  proper  names  (of  which  there  are  hundreds) 
with  the  accentuation  according  to  the  best  usage  in  this  country  and  the  recognized  authorities 
in  lexicography. 

This  work  'has  the  high  commendation  of  Christian  scholars,  and  is  needed  in  every  house- 
hold, and  by  every  student  and  reader  of  the  Bible. 

CONDITION'S. 

The  book  will  be  printed  from  new  Stereotype  Plates,  on  good  paper,  and  will  be  appropri- 
ately illustrated  with  over  One  Hundred  and  Twenty-five  Engravings  of  beautiful  Scenes,  An- 
cient Cities,  and  Memorable  Places  of  the  Holy  Land,  descriptive  Figures  and  valuable  Ma'ps. 

It  will  contain  nearly  800  closely  printed  double-columned  Octavo  Pages,  including  24  elegant 
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AQENTS    WANTED. 

•  JUST    PUBLISHED. 


AND 


MEMOKABLE    PLACES 


OF  THE 


COMPRISING    AN  ACCOUNT   OF 

The  Patriarchs,  Prophets,  Poets,  Apostles,  Princes,    Women,    Warriors,  Judge*, 
Kings,  and  other  Celebrated  Persons  of  Sacred  History. 

WITH  DESCEIPTIONS   OP 

ANCIENT  CITIES  AND  VENERATED  SHRINES. 
By    CHARLES    W.    ELLIOTT, 

AUTHOR    OF    THE     NEW    ENGLAND    HISTORY,  ETC.,    ETC. 

WITH   ORIGINAL  ARTICLES   BY 

THEODORE  D.  WOOLSEY,  LL.  D.,  President  of  Yale  College.  JOSEPH  CUM- 
MINGS,  D.D.,  LL.  D.,  President  of  Wesleyan  University.  RT.  REV.  THOMAS  M. 
CLARK,  D.  D.,  Bishop  of  Rhode  Island.  The  REV.  HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 
The  REV.  CHARLES  A.  STODDARD.  The  &EV.  S.  F.  SMITH,  D.D.  The  Rev. 
WM.  ADAMS,  D.  D.,  GRACE  AGUILAR,  &c.,  &c. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  work,  some  of  the  best  pens  and  most  accomplished 
scholars  have  been  selected,  as  the  table  of  contents  will  show.  No  pains  or  ex- 
pense has  been  spared  to  make  it  a  work  of  great  and  permanent  value,  acceptable 
to  old  and  young  alike,  —  a  household  book.  , 

It  is  not  a  work  of  Theology,  but  of  Human  Life  full  of  remarkable  characters, 
strange  events,  Lofty  Poetry  and  Startling  History. 

THIS  WORK  CONTAINS  CAREFUL  AND  ACCURATE  ACCOUNTS, 

I.  Of  the  lives  and  characters  of  the  remarkable  men  who  have  made  the  Holy  Land 
famous  for  all  time. 

II.  Of  Abraham  the  Wanderer,  and  Moses  the  Deliverer;  of  Joshua  the  Conqueror,  and 
David  the  Beloved  ;  of  Miriam  and  Deborah  and  Naomi  ;  of  the  Prophets  of  old,  and  Apos* 
ties  of  Jesus;  of  the  Baptist,  and  the  Women  who  knew  and  talked  with  the  Saviour,  and  also 
of  the  Great  Herod,  and  the  magnanimous  Saladin,  with  many  others. 

III.  Of  the  great  deeds  and  surprising  events  in  which  they  were  the  principal  actors; 
of  the  habits  and  manners  of  that  Orie.ntal  Land. 

IV.  Of  the  Ancient  Cities  and  Venerated  Shrines;  of  Egypt  in  darkness;  of  Jerusalem 
and  the  Great  Temple;  of  Mount  Sinai  and  the  Dead  Sea;  of  Bethlehem,  and  Nazareth,  and 
Tyre,  and  Damascus,  and  Antioch,  and  many  other  places. 

IT  CONTAINS  NOT  ONLY  ACCOUNTS  OP  THEM  IN  THE  PAST,  BUT  AS  THEY  APPEAR  TO-DAJ. 

IT    MEETS    WITH    THE    HEARTY   APPROVAL    OF,.  EMINENT    MEN    OF  ALL 
DENOMINATIONS,  BEING    EQUALLY   ADAPTED     TO    ALL    WHO    READ    THE   BIBLE. 

COTVOITIO1VS. 

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the  value  of  the  work  is  increased  by  Maps. 

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